Revised and Reformatted Weblogs by

John O'Loughlin

Of C entretruths Digital Media

Copyright © 2012 John O'Loughlin




My Rock Music Impossibles

Who or What is My Brother?

Art of the Sky

Nature of the Sky

Human Beings?

My Philosophical Use of the terms 'Supreme' and 'Primal' in Gender Context

Existentialist Dismay

Opposing Tyranny

Liberty from Autocratic Tyranny


God in Heaven

Literary Apologia

Distinguishing Global Music from Western and/or Eastern Music

Women and Children

Poetic vis-a-vis Philosophic Thought

More Poetic Philosophy than Philosophic Poet

Hope and Fear in Elemental Perspective

Concrete Basis of War

Witness to a Heaving Sky

Nature at War with Itself

Celestial Dichotomies

Clouds Reflecting Icebergs

An Analogical Take on Hoods and Umbrellas

War and Peace as Alpha and Omega

Fancies and Observations

Artist and People

Sky and Clouds

A Typical English Day

A Typical English Summer

An Honourable Atheism

Behind or Beyond the Sky?

Imaginative Perception of Cloud Predation

Body-building debases the Mind

Worldly Success

The Weaker Sex?

Hammer and Anvil

Suffering for One's Art

The Presumption of Beauty

Their Euphemistic Jungle

The Beatles and the Rolling Stones

On the Slide

Man's Creation

The so-called 'Fall of Man' is really the 'Fall of Woman'

Musical Politics

Panic in the Trees

Declining into Night

Devil's Work

Solace of Dreams

The Prying Eyes of Stars

I achieve Heaven by rejecting Hell

The Last Laugh

One of those Perfect Days

The Nature of Gender Struggles in a Dialectical World

Gender Contrasts in Devolutionary and Evolutionary Perspective

Orange and Green


Living in a kind of Limbo


Superlatives and Comparatives

German in Perspective

World War Two Leaders and/or Rulers


Bar Talk

Fighting the 'True Fight'

Iron Maiden

The Lie of God

What is Life?

How I Write

The Republic of Ireland

Seasons and pseudo-Seasons in Axial Perspective

I'm a Blogger, not a Logger

Thinkers and Writers

Success and Failure in Class Perspective

Charm of the Country

An Apparent Contradiction in Terms

The Basic Cause of my Intellectual Genius


A Lesson in History

The Unseen Artist

Multitude and Solitude in Antithetical Perspective

Lost in the Cloud

Erroneous Partialities of the Judeo-Christian Tradition

Stupid Songs


Michael Schenker

Nothing Novel about Novels

The Enemy of Truth

When Evil is not Recognized

The Nature of Classical Music

Young and Old in Opposite Directions

The Jewish God

Jesus Christ Superstar?

The Symphonic Status of Brahms



Once again I have transcribed from my notebook a collection of weblogs spanning a wide range of both poetical and philosophical subjects, with some autobiographical and other topics included for good measure, and refashioned them for publication in both eScroll and eBook formats, the former of which, being italic writerly, accords with my metaphysical fulcrum as a self-taught philosopher, or thinker, and the latter with a concession to conventional printerly publication, that is to say, of text presented in corporeal printerly as opposed to ethereal italic-writerly terms, so that it could be said, with no little justification, that the distinction is rather akin to the Biblical notion of 'on earth as it is in heaven', with the eBook conforming to an 'earthly' extrapolation, as it were, from the eScroll, whose ethereal presentation could be said to accord with a certain 'heavenly' status deriving from both a largely metaphysical subject-matter and a textural presentation which is arguably metaphysical in the noumenal, or ethereal, subjectivity of its particular approach to font and style which, as noted above, can only be italic writerly. Rest assured, however, that the content of both presentations, whether corporeal or ethereal, 'on earth' or 'in heaven' is identical, and that what one reads in the one context is exactly the same as what one can read in the other, assuming one has an interest in writings which, by their very nature, are essentially non-commerical and even highly abstract in character. Believe me, I wouldn't have it otherwise, because it is precisely through this more metaphysical approach to writing that I was able to vindicate my having embarked upon a literary vocation in the first place by actually satisfying myself that I had arrived at and understood what metaphysical truth is, irrespective of what stands in its way or strives, vainly, to replace it from positions, also well-documented in my writings, either contrary to or falling well short of it in some intermediate realm better suited to those for whom anything metaphysical could only be described as lying 'beyond the pale' of their human-all-too-human limitations. In this collection of revised and reformatted weblogs, such limitations have little or no place, and the reader capable of broaching the text in all its various permutations will be the freer in his mind for having done so. For what is that other Biblical saying about 'the truth shall set you free' if not a pointer towards metaphysical freedom from worldly and netherworldly limitations?

John O'Loughlin, London 2012



WHITESNAKE: Despite some good music, this band is so lyrically obsessed by sex and love and women as to be, for me, insufferable. I like one or two of their songs, but that’s about it. This is commercial rock at or near its worst, and I always end-up cringing when I make the mistake of listening to them.

THIN LIZZY: Hate the name, which references a female of, presumably, slender build. Used to like a number of their songs, but these days I would simply feel embarrassed listening to them. So I don’t.

YES: Jon Anderson, that romantic, sun-obsessed false prophet with a high-pitched voice that occasionally resembles a histrionic female, never quite male, somewhat boyish and even effeminate. Given a choice between Coverdale and Anderson, I think I’d opt for the former, even given my aforementioned reservations regarding Whitesnake. Quite apart from some other factors unrelated to Anderson, like pretentious disjointed music, a definite No to Yes.

NEIL YOUNG: Another of those rock musicians with a womanish voice that can sound a little too high-pitched at times, Neil Young nevertheless has an evident genius for complex guitar harmonies and precise tonalities that doesn’t prevent much of his music from being grossly overblown in concert (though that may well be a kind of protest against the constraints of studio recordings). All in all, one of the more pronounced long-haired rock sons-of-bitches who never or rarely lets-up on the romantic front – a devotee of frigging love! Oh, for a bit of Stephen Stills angst!

ROGER WATERS: Politically pompous and lyrically pretentious English rock musician who, despite his musical limitations and limited vocal range, has produced, with ‘the Wall’, probably the best rock opera since ‘Tommy’. But his musical eccentricities are, at times, too contrived to sound particularly interesting, and I hate it when he goes into vocal overdrive.

THE WHO: Despite their ridiculous name, the Who have always delivered above-average rock music that owes much to the genius of Pete Townshend, their electrifying guitarist and occasional keyboardist. Roger Daltry has a strong voice and an ability to handle original sophisticated lyrics that are not afraid of colloquialisms and is clearly a different kettle of rock fish from singers like David Coverdale and Robert Plant, altogether more manly and vocally rich. But the Who? What a name! It seems to fall short of actually being the name of a band, like Them and, who was it? ah yes, the 4 of Us, or something to that effect.

ROBERT PLANT: Always struck me as being a bit too effeminate and rather sold, like Jon Anderson, on the sun and love and romance generally. Just another rock sonofabitch whose high-pitched screeching does not preclude a lyrical and vocal sensitivity when he elects to escape from the straitjacket of Hard Rock and the Blues pretensions – virtually an English disease – of his early career.

THE NICE: Another band with a stupid name but, in their case, a really great sound, at least until David O’List left and they continued as a three-piece, a bit like the Doors post-Morrison. And look what happened to them! I can’t say the Nice fared worse, but I expect Keith Emerson felt relieved when they broke up and he formed Emerson Lake and Palmer – a band with a name you can’t argue with, even if their music sometimes sucks.

THE POLICE: Could never take a band seriously that had a name like that – so straight and unhippy-like as to be uncool from a freak standpoint. But then Sting is something of a freakish contrast, isn’t it? Though not the kind of freakishness I could relate to and, despite some fine music from him, the name has never got the better of the music for me, but has always been a stumbling block to taking it seriously.

U2: Most of what was said above would be applicable to this in many ways excellent band who are just a bit too romantically over-the-top for my celibate taste.

FRANK ZAPPA: Probably the most ridiculous man in rock music after Captain Beefheart, Zappa’s genius for the bizarre takes one to places no guitar or song had ever gone to before, which is probably just as well since most of them are the kind of places you wouldn't want to go to in the first place. Zappa’s ridiculousness is on a par with Salvador Dali, whose so-called surreal art proved that being ridiculous and a genius were not necessarily incompatible; quite the contrary, pushed beyond a certain point genius becomes ridiculous, which is to say, meaninglessly absurd. Probably it would be truer to say that such men as Dali and Zappa, not to mention Warhol and Beefheart (Van Vliet), had a genius for the ridiculous, which some might interpret as a ridiculous order of genius. However, that which is ridiculous does not enhance music or art so much as debase it and render it … subject to ridicule. Art that is not motivated by service of a higher cause or ideal soon cannibalistically self-destructs, thereby becoming ridiculous. This is the fate, inevitably, of art-for-art’s-sake and Zappa, almost uniquely among rock musicians, has one foot in bourgeois decadence and the other in proletarian barbarism, neither ‘fish nor fowl’ but an amalgam of so-called ‘classical’ and rock that gives to his music an air of ‘wolf-in-sheep’s-clothing’ that only contributes to its inherent absurdity from a rock standpoint. Zappa is ridiculous precisely because he subverts rock from the standpoint of classical decadence and thus detracts from its true nature as an expression of proletarian barbarity coupled, in pseudo-impressive terms, to pseudo-philistinism, of which the song genre is the perfect illustration, if one can speak of perfection in relation to such an artistically imperfect medium.


Who or what is my brother? Not in the obvious familial sense but in the religious or ideological sense of fellow in the cause of metaphysics, godliness, Heaven, true religion, universality, global transcendence, etc.

Let me be blunt. Only that male who wants to see the female bottled up, boxed in, neutralized (like the proverbial dragon), or otherwise rendered pseudo-metachemically subordinate and in no position to utilize an XX-chromosomal cosh, so to speak, at the male’s soulful expense – only he, I repeat, is my brother in this higher sense. The rest, whether fools or fiends, are not ‘brother’ to me but opponents, directly (as fiends) or indirectly (as fools), of the brotherhood of man or, more correctly, of superman.

Normally men are not brothers because women come between them, making for worldly societies commensurate with mankind in general, which ever wars upon itself under female pressure based in the supernatural necessity of reproduction. But he who is not divided from his fellows by the female is, necessarily, a brother, and can be acknowledged and respected as such.

Therefore I have answered the question: 'Who or what is my brother?' to my metaphysical satisfaction. And my metaphysics, being contemporary, is not cosmic, natural, or human, but superhuman in terms of an orientation favouring the supermasculine at the subordinate expense of the pseudo-superfeminine within a universal context orientated towards cyborgization.


He delighted in the abstractions of the sky – its pinks and greys, its clouds and haze set against a pale-blue backdrop, ever changing but slowly, almost imperceptibly, as though by sleight-of-hand, a truly magical spectacle in which man plays no part but which the human mind can contemplate with all the reverential absorption it would normally bestow upon a great canvas dedicated, in suitably impressive vein, to non-representational abstraction.

Was it not the case that abstract art, when true, was really an art of the skies, ethereal and sublimely indifferent to the world of men below. Simply something to contemplate.


We owe religion to the sky, not to space (the cosmos), which is the fount of science and therefore of fire as opposed to air.

The earth, on the other hand, torn between water and vegetation, is the crucible of both politics and economics.

Space is not beyond the sky but effectively behind it, like an anterior backdrop out of which gradually emerged the world, in both watery and vegetative terms, as preconditions of an airy sky that was the final thrust in natural evolution.

Even now the sky, largely comprised of oxygen, stands above and beyond the earth, and some would claim to see the face of God in sunlight as though in a parallel with candlelight from candle-flame. I would not be of that persuasion, though it does appear as though the sky managed, in its airy flowering, to subsume the sun into itself, whether or not this is merely an optical illusion. But that is why the sun is simply ‘the sun’ and not just another star in the night sky, cosmically removed from the earth as something scientifically anterior rather than religiously posterior to it. One might say that whereas space is supernatural in terms of a kind of superfeminine (fiery) dominion, the sky is supernatural or, more correctly, supernurtural, so to speak, in terms of a kind of supermasculine (airy) dominion. For the sky is more psychic than somatic.

Is there nothing, then, beyond the sky that would qualify for some kind of religious or ideological significance? Assuredly there is, else religion would not be able to transcend transcendental meditation but would probably regress, for want of an alternative, to humanistic prayer or to naturalistic sex or to some kind of fundamentalist pipe- or dope-smoking regimen deriving less from clouds (of one kind or another) or rain than from, in all probability, the sun. I fancy that what lies beyond the sky, even though it be set in space, has less to do with the possibility of advanced alien civilizations (though that cannot be discounted) than with satellites and what is, hopefully, an embryonic form of the proverbial ‘celestial city’ (Bunyan) and ‘omega point’ (de Chardin) – namely, the space station. For in transcending the earth, man also transcends the sky and heads on out into some kind of antithesis to the Cosmos, utilizing space to an end which may well prove to be more cyborgistic than humanistic and therefore the transcendence, ideologically, of religion as we know it. Not a matter of worship but, rather, of a new order of self-realization that will be more dependent on gaseous properties laced with various nutriments and stimulants than on anything else. It will be then that the superhuman morphs, as it were, into the supra-human, and Heaven becomes a fact, not merely the basis of truth but the end-game in the process of evolving life towards world-transcending religion.


They speak of people as human beings, but comparatively few ever are. Most people are either human doings, human givings, or human takings, to use loosely equivalent terms, and more usually the human takings are axially in league, state-hegemonically, with the human doings for their mutual exploitation of the human givings who, giving to the human doings/takings, become cut off from the prospect of deliverance, on church-hegemonic axial terms, to the superior realm of human beings, whose beingfulness should be an end-in-itself rather than a means, as with the human doings, to some exploitative end.

But even human beings leave something to be desired from the standpoint of the utmost metaphysical evolution, which could only be global and universal in character, as befits the superhuman at a level of being that, in its supreme artificiality or synthetic transcendentalism, would be beyond the capacities of man, meaning human beings as that kind of man not overly concerned with metachemical doing, physical taking, or chemical giving.

Such a higher order of metaphysics would be the prerogative of supermen or, more correctly, of supra-human beings whose metaphysical supremacy could only exist in conjunction with a subordinate type of superhumanism characterized by pseudo-metachemical pseudo-superfemininity, which would remain pseudo-infinitely deferential to the Eternal, and pretty much as pseudo-primal pseudo-doing to supreme being – in other words, as the proverbial ‘lion’ that ‘lies down’ with the ‘lamb’ of godly truth in heavenly joyfulness, and all because its neutralization provides it with no alternative.


I tend to use the terms ‘supreme’ and ‘primal’, contrary to standard practice, in relation to positive and negative complementary opposites, pretty much like two sides of the same coin, which are in turn conditioned, as far as I am concerned, by freedom and binding, so that that which is free, whether somatic (female) or psychic (male) is positive, in contrast to the bound, whether psychic (female) or somatic (male) being negative.

Soma preceding and predominating, whether in absolute or relative ratios, over psyche is the female reality of somatic supremacy and psychic primacy, whereas psyche preceding and preponderating over soma is constitutive of the male reality of psychic supremacy and somatic primacy, again whether in absolute (3:1) or relative (2½:1½) terms.

These gender differentials, which underpin my mature thinking, are the effective alpha and omega of human life, as of opposite kinds of supremacy (with their correlative types of primacy), and are at the roots of gender conflict and therefore of the immutable incompatibility of the genders (the Biblical so-called ‘friction of the seeds’). An apparent complementarity of pseudo-male to female and/or a seeming complementarity of pseudo-female to male does not invalidate this basic dichotomy but, rather, confirms it, since such complementarities are apt, sooner or later, to break asunder for want of ratio equality, the pseudo-female being more somatically bound (and pseudo-primal) than psychically free, the pseudo-male more psychically bound (and pseudo-primal) than somatically free, their respective types of freedom and binding being ‘pseudo’ because conditioned by the hegemonic gender whose freedom and binding, whether female (somatic/psychic) or male (psychic/somatic), will alone be genuine, since according with their respective types of gender reality.

Therefore supremacy and primacy, being equivalent to positivity and negativity, whether somatic or psychic, is ever a distinction, in my work, between freedom and binding, 'the light’ and 'the dark’, brightness and shadow, and only in the hegemonic gender, whether female or male, is there more brightness than shadow.


A solitary bird, possibly a gull, on a lonely flight across an early-evening sullen sky to only it knows where, as I stare aghast, with something approaching existentialist dismay, at the vast empty spaces it has to traverse to get to its self-appointed destination beyond the rooftops of the sullen ranks of stubborn tenements.


Despite all the efforts man makes to ‘dethrone’ autocracy and set up democratic or theocratic alternatives to its implacable rule, the sun persists more or less unchanged in its tyrannical path, oblivious to the efforts of men of a certain stamp to unseat tyranny, and, like the sun, women persist in their reproductive tyranny, indifferent if not hostile to male endeavours to counter or negate it.

Yet, in spite of the fact that life is not on our side, we have no alternative, as men, but to oppose the tyrannical in all its forms, in the interests of freedom, that is, male freedom from female tyranny. For that is the only basis upon which genuine peace of mind can be established and maintained in relation to a society – call it ‘Kingdom Come’ if you like – structured around male hegemonic interests in metaphysics, though avowedly not on the level of man – forever beholden to woman – but, rather, on the more evolved level of supermen and of that which signifies an antithesis not merely in the corporeal to nature, but in the ethereal to the cosmos.

This is the destiny, I have no doubt, of truly progressive endeavour on the part of males who who do not take tyranny, whether cosmic, natural, or human, for granted, but strive to overthrow it whenever and wherever they can.


Although this may not correspond to historical facticity, I like to think of the Statue of Liberty as a paradoxical symbol of enlightenment through knowledge, and therefore of the possibility – indeed probability – of Truth and, by implication, of fidelity to Truth.

Therefore, on the basis of my interpretation, this symbol, despite the use by its French sculptor of a female form (his wife), is not intended to encourage the female of the species to ‘strut her stuff’, since enlightenment, symbolized by the fiery torch held aloft in the figure’s right hand, through knowledge, symbolized by what appears to be a book or volume (but is in fact a tablet with the Declaration of Independence inscribed upon it) in the figure’s left hand, is incompatible, to an antithetical degree, with any such somatic licence, epitomized by the free female, or whore-like bitch, and is therefore designed to signify the ‘right-on’ of progress towards the possibility, with true enlightenment, of ‘Kingdom Come’.

Unfortunately, this has not necessarily been the interpretation to which, in the popular imagination, the Statue of Liberty (above all of psychic or intellectual and moral freedom) has been subjected, and one might be forgiven for seeing in the Columbia Broadcasting Corporation’s use of a torch-bearing female at the start of its films a parallel with the Statue of Liberty which owes more to what is metachemically enthroned, in star-like fashion, as the ruling principle of the Cosmos than to any metaphysical aspiration towards the Beyond in Christ and more than Christ-like vein.

Nevertheless, what seems to be the honourable intention of the original concept, inspired by the Age of Enlightenment, cannot be denied, and the statue in question continues to stand, if not exactly as a beacon of enlightenment, then arguably as a milestone in the struggle against autocratic tyranny for millions of people not only in the USA but right across the globe.


There was a highly metaphysical turn-of-events in the sky, with a variety of puffy clouds – some avowedly cumulus – floating gracefully by, many of which lent themselves to associations with animal and human heads and/or bodies.

Imagining human or non-human forms in the clouds has always been, it seems to me, one of the main pleasures of cloud-gazing!

Clouds are the art of the sky, an idealistic mode of abstraction at variance with the scientific abstractions of space, wherein materialism sits enthroned. For a moment it seemed that Dali and Tangerine Dream had fused into a portrait of Alice Cooper, before all collapsed into a Francis Bacon-like nightmare of charcoal paranoia.


Where the concept of ‘God in Heaven’ is concerned, I am confident that, for most people these days, that would boil down to the sun being in the sky on a hot, cloudless day, like the day on which I am writing this.

I, on the other hand, am not that simple, since hot, cloudless days aren't particularly to my taste, being, if anything, more of the Alpha than the Omega - like, possibly, a fairly cloudy day that is nevertheless not overcast. Rather, a scattering of cumulus clouds that are pleasing to behold and constantly changing shape. An overcast day, by contrast, is more likely antithetical to a rainy one, like a lower order omega to a lower order alpha, pretty much as physics to chemistry in the corporeal. But that is my fancy, and it would be difficult to establish on a logical basis.

However, that could not be said of ‘God in Heaven’, which is an altogether different proposition from the populist perception alluded to at the beginning of this article, and not one I need go into now in any great detail except to say that it has nothing to do with the sun being in the sky.

Quite apart from populist notions of the sun in the sky, there is arguably a sense in which ‘God in Heaven’ could be said to correspond to the proximity of the lower brain and/or brain stem to the spinal cord of the Central Nervous System, so that it would resemble, in some way, the wick of a candle that was superconsciously reflective, in godly light, of the supersensible feeling adhering, in soul, to the spinal cord as that which most approximated to Heaven within the totality of the Self (brain stem and spinal cord). All of which rather takes us back, in imagination, to Cain (played by Tom Noonan) in RoboCop 2, whose brain and spinal cord were robotically sustained while his soul was nourished by the requisite dope (coke).

Now if the brain in general is to be excluded from this proximity of brain stem to spinal cord in the Self, since more rationally aloof from the Soul in its concern, via the eyes, with worldly pursuits, then it might prove useful to regard the lower brain as the Superbrain, to distinguish it from both the brain proper (Koestler’s New Brain as opposed to Old Brain, or cerebrum as against cerebellum) and the spinal cord within the context of cerebrospinal selfhood. Otherwise we run the risk of confounding that which is the omega of the state-hegemonic axis, viz. physics, with what is the omega of the church-hegemonic axis, viz. metaphysics, which has less to do with the ego in relation to the brain proper than with the soul in relation to the spinal cord and, for that matter, the brain stem (superbrain?) which affirms the right of superconsciousness as against mere consciousness to exist, and to exist as an impression, in noumenal subjectivity, of soul rather than as an impression, in phenomenal subjectivity, of ego, thereby transcending the corporeal through a mode of abstraction which is indubitably ethereal.


Writing for me is never entertainment or an attempt to ‘tell a story’. Right from the start I had a problem with that and did my best to use literature, even when nominally narrative or poetic, as a vehicle for both self-understanding and understanding about life and the world in general, as well, increasingly, about the possibility of life beyond the world, not so much in terms of aliens or space exploration, but, rather, in relation to otherworldly possibilities conceived as an extension of human life into the Beyond (meaning, of course, that which lies beyond us).

As I say, this aspect of my commitment to writing generally became more prevalent until, after several years or, more correctly, decades of literary endeavour I find myself almost exclusively committed to what I now regard as metaphysical issues, whether in relation to philosophy or religion or, indeed, a kind of ideological cross between the two.

Latterly I have slightly back-pedalled, as it were, to the extent that I occasionally allow for some autobiographical and even poetical tendencies to emerge as a complement to the overly logical and effectively philosophical writing, though it could never lead to a reversal of my preponderantly aphoristic and self-styled ‘supernotational’ approach to literature.

In this respect I believe I am akin to Nietzsche and that my books or, rather, ebooks, are, with few exceptions, the best of their kind, certainly since Nietzsche and not excepting writers like Spengler, Hesse, Sartre, and even Henry Miller, who was one of the main influences on my early writings and, indeed, on the choice of a kind of literary career or, as I prefer to call it, vocation.

After several years of clerking, I gave up being a dilettante and threw myself into the production of literature on a more-or-less full-time basis, and for that reason most of my writings can be taken seriously in their own right, not regarded as the product of a clerk or shop assistant or whatever who occasionally writes. Therefore work that one can take seriously as original, competent, and profound, to name but three qualities, is not something that can be sacrificed to anything else, least of all regular employment. Either one is a writer or one is something else, someone who occasionally dabbles in literature of one kind or another - more usually, I suspect, of a superficial nature akin to fiction or even drama.

A certain level of philosophical excellence, even if and when one is not technically a ‘professional philosopher’ working out of some university, demands fidelity on the part of its author; for it is only by staying with it and continuing to identify with its message, its findings, its logical credibility, that it has any meaning and has a right to be taken seriously, both by the author and its readers (if any).

Irrespective of what the so-called academics or ‘chairs of philosophy’ might have to say, I believe in the veracity and significance, both ideologically and logically, of my mature work, the product of several decades' endeavour, and therefore I stand by it irrespective of the lack of recognition from establishment circles and of their complete indifference to what is not ‘in the club’, of the ‘old school/college’, published by ‘reputable book publishers’, and so on.

Clearly, such people are not motivated by a desire to discover ‘the truth’, or discover who is capable of it and writing in its service. Rather, they make a point of avoiding such a commitment, since it would be contrary to their own vested interests within a predator/prey society in which, as official intelligentsia, they are palpably of the predatory ilk and regard themselves, correctly, as privileged.

People like me, who have to constantly struggle against popular prejudice and all the usual kinds of disturbances associated, in cheap lodgings, with ‘average people’, including their noisy children, are not only outside the official system and its vested interests; we are effectively a revolutionary threat to it, since our ‘truth’, which in my case I would identify with metaphysical truth per se, is alien to what they believe in and therefore of no relevance to them. So be it! I may have lived in England, in a state-hegemonic society, but I was never English but ever an Irishman of Catholic descent in exile, writing from a standpoint which is effectively church-hegemonic and therefore at axial variance with anything they would take seriously or wish to encourage and, more to the point, recognize, since for them there is no arguing with female domination even though the long-term consequences of it upon males rather leaves something to be desired, as one receives ample evidence of every day living in England and, in particular, London.


Global music – jazz to rock to electronica. Western music – medieval to folk to classical.

Any form of classical music, no matter how ‘modernist’ or seemingly ‘avant-garde’, is a Western anachronism in a global age, whose music, beginning with jazz, is now largely on a rock to electronica axis effectively commensurate with church-hegemonic/state-subordinate axial criteria that has yet to officially emerge on a politico-religious ideological basis, the basis I habitually associate with Social Theocracy (to contrast it with Social Democracy), and thus with the possibility, through the democratically-mandated institutionalization of religious sovereignty (conceived as the ultimate mass sovereignty), of ‘Kingdom Come’.

Classical music was the ‘flowering’, largely down at the southwest point of the intercardinal axial compass (on the state-hegemonic axis), of Western music, whose essence, being qualitative, is personal, and thus a manifestation of ego.

Electronica is – or will be – the ‘flowering’, largely up at the northeast point of the intercardinal axial compass (on the church-hegemonic axis) of Global music, whose essence, being properly essential, is universal, and thus a manifestation of soul.

One might describe this ultimate music as, in some sense, ‘superclassical’, since it signifies a metaphysical resolution of Global music no less than ‘classical’ a physical resolution, down to and including Marxist-Leninism on the state-hegemonic axis, of Western music.

From a contemporary standpoint, classical music is totally irrelevant and therefore of no consequence within the universal context of what is properly global.

By a similar token, Eastern music, whether Middle Eastern or Far Eastern, is equally irrelevant to the global context, since no less culturally anachronistic.

People or even peoples who are backward in relation to the global scene of what is truly contemporary are always somehow pro-classical or pro-folk or even pro-medieval, whether on an Eastern or a Western basis.

The starting points of Western and Global music are axially antithetical. Western music starts at the northeast point of the intercardinal axial compass on a more or less Catholic medieval basis and descends to its folk-music polarity at the southwest point before jumping across the axial divide, as it were, to the classical southeast point of the said compass, a context dominated, in orchestral vein, by strings, as though in an elemental parallel with vegetation as opposed to water, or instrumental music as opposed to song (though this is not, of course, exclusively the case, neither on the one axis nor the other).

By contrast to the above, Global music starts out at the northwest point of the intercardinal axial compass in jazz before descending to rock ‘n’ roll at the southwest point thereof, from which emerges, on a no-less intensively electric basis, its axial polarity in terms of electronica, which more or less returns music to where it started in the Western tradition without being in the least Catholic or Christian or Medieval but, rather, more akin to a Superchristian artificiality that has the capacity to be more metaphysical and indeed correspondingly pseudo-metachemical, in trance/dance-like vein.

Albums like Deep Purple’s ‘In Concert with the London Symphony Orchestra’ and Metallica’s ‘S&M’, being an amalgam of rock and classical elements, are failures from the strictly global standpoint, having one foot, so to speak, in the Western – or orchestral – past. Such Western/Global hybrids should not, however, be confounded with rock-classical, which is the appropriation of classical music to a rock context utilizing, in characteristic vein, electric instruments. Such rock-classical may be less genuine than rock ‘n’ roll, i.e. soft rock, hard rock, progressive rock, heavy metal, etc., but it is still preferable, from a global standpoint, to rock band/orchestral hybrids, which create a sort of mongrel music which is neither fish nor fowl, so to speak, but a mishmash of incompatible elements that ‘fall between two stools’ into some kind of limbo between the two contrasting types of worldliness – the chemical/pseudo-physical on the one hand (that of rock) and the physical/pseudo-chemical on the other hand (that of classical), whether or not one antithetically includes pop and light classical in the overall equation.


It could be said that women are certainly punished by their children – in fact, to an extent that most if not all men would be unable to handle. Being a mother has to be one of the hardest, most difficult undertakings on earth. I don’t envy women, neither do I pity them. There is a sense in which they get what they deserve and, more to the point, want, since a life without children would be even worse.

Do I like children? From personal experience I would have to say no, I don’t. They are noisy, smelly, disruptive, anarchic, bodily, and, frankly, burgeoning expressions of natural energy. Not liking children, I have assiduously avoided women, since the one leads inexorably and inevitably to the other and you cannot, as a man, expect to establish long-term amicable relations with women if you don’t intend to become a father. Exceptions to the rule notwithstanding, beauty and love are there to serve a reproductive purpose, leading, if successfully utilized, to pride and strength, the pride and strength of maternal resolution.

That is what keeps the mainstream world turning, and it has no other end, or meaning, than itself, that is, than reproduction. It is only people and, in the main, males who defy this clockwise heathenistic or naturalistic norm that can be religious in the true sense of favouring peace of mind established on the basis of self-harmony. For if you allow females to pick you off for reproductive purposes, there can be no peace of mind but only the turmoil that comes from being at cross-purposes with oneself as one’s XY is subjected to an XX-chromosomal assault from the twin objectivities, based in a vacuum, of will and spirit, the power and the glory of females whose beauty/love and pride/strength ever war upon joy/truth and knowledge/pleasure, beauty and love putting an end to joy and truth (transmuted into pseudo-joy and pseudo-truth), pride and strength putting an end to knowledge and pleasure (transmuted into pseudo-knowledge and pseudo-pleasure).

In nature, the male is secondary to the female as everything revolves, in clockwise fashion, around the ability of the female to reproduce. Only in what rejects and effectively negates nature, namely civilization and, more specifically, culture, can the standings of the genders be reversed. For then you have what corresponds to saint and neutralized dragon, lamb and neutralized wolf, etc. etc., in that the Y, released from the clutches of the XX upon its own X, is then free to be true to itself rather than either marginalized or roped-in to the dominating service of the XX. A neutralized XX is in no position to dominate the XY from a standpoint rooted in free soma, and power and glory will no longer be ‘calling the shots’. Set free of that form which is subordinated to such power and glory, the self is released into contentment, into that peace of mind which is of the ‘Kingdom of Heaven’ and decidedly ‘beyond the world’.


The setting sun painted the clouds nearest to it a deep rich gold that shone from their margins like a halo of celestial resplendence. This was a sunset like no other, and I was one of the few privileged to behold it and reflect on its majestic artistry from a standpoint well beyond the world, or so I thought.

In the foreground, as though oblivious to the sun, a huge wall of burgeoning charcoal cloud stretched away towards a pallid sky, reluctantly fading towards the void of night and the eclipse of religion by science, as of religious impressions by scientific expressions.

For over three decades I lived in rooms that, for want of pleasant external surroundings, encouraged abstract thought and, consequently, a turning away from the world in pursuit of what is metaphysically called Truth, but which the world rejects from a standpoint where success is measured in terms of having a room ‘with a view’. For when you have such a room you become more aware of nature, whether on earth or in the clouds, than would otherwise be the case, even to a poetic degree.

Consequently if you happen to write from the standpoint of this view, what you say is likely to make sense to those for whom abstract thought would be ‘beyond the pale’ or, at any rate, of no interest because they happen to have rooms ‘with a view’ and regard what they see as of more importance than what they don’t see and, in all probability, don’t want to see. For them, literary success can also be measured in terms of what is seen and commented upon from the individual’s standpoint. For literature, to be successful with the worldly, must appeal to successful people, or so one would imagine.

That, on the other hand, which is otherworldly in its rejection of the world, in its turning away from the world for want of a room ‘with a view’, will have little or no appeal to them, and consequently it will remain unrecognized to all but those who, should they be interested in literature, would only be interested in that which, like true philosophy, transcends the world from a position centred in abstract thought, whether or not motivated by want of a room ‘with a view’.


I swept down from my philosophical perch and alighted on a branch of poetry with which I was foolishly familiar. There I waited patiently for the air to clear before soaring back up to my accustomed heights and the freedom to roam wherever I chose irrespective of the risks involved.


Because we are generally more positive than negative, whether to an upper-order absolute degree (3:1) or to a lower-order relative degree (2½:1½), we tend to hope that the ‘good times’ will last for ever and incline to fear that the ‘bad times’ may never end.

We do not fear in positivity or hope in negativity. Fear of the ‘dark side’ (whether metachemically in relation to ugliness and hate, or chemically in relation to weakness and humiliation, or physically in relation to ignorance and pain, or metaphysically in relation to illusion and woe) is no more commensurate with positivity than hope for the ‘bright side’ (whether metaphysically in relation to truth and joy, or physically in relation to knowledge and pleasure, or chemically in relation to strength and pride, or metachemically in relation to beauty and love) is commensurate with negativity.

Hope is positive and fear negative, and consequently genuine hope and fear (not to be confused with the pseudo-hope and pseudo-fear of subordinate, upended gender positions vis-a-vis the hegemonic gender positions across the elements) will always be correspondingly positive or negative, as the elemental case may be.


The concrete ever wars upon the abstract, and those (few) given to abstract thought will ever have an uphill task in persevering with their calling despite what the concrete throw at them.

Even though the concrete have their abstraction (ever bound to what is freely concrete), a dichotomous distinction continues to exist between the concrete and the abstract, as between soma and psyche, female and male, objectivity and subjectivity, particles and wavicles, and such a distinction underlies the dialectical struggles of the world and even, to a comparatively absolute extent, of netherworldly and otherworldly antitheses above it, whether anterior (autocratic) or posterior (theocratic) to its corporeal relativity.


The people’s summer had been eclipsed by a sullen mass of endless cloud that stretched away towards the far horizon, sealing their fate and seemingly precluding even the faintest evidence of merriment from disturbing the air.

Some dappled cloud smoothing out towards the horizon dressed the setting sun in a gauzy film of such delicacy that one became oblivious to the huge slow-moving mound of charcoal-grey cloud approaching it like an angry ogre hell-bent on snuffing out the remaining light.

I closed my eyes, as though to shield them from the approaching apocalypse, but somehow, when I opened them again, the seething ogre of apocalyptic proportions had slid by and the fading sun, having in the meantime shed its heavenly apparel, continued to shine with, if anything, a defiantly brighter glow that enriched the chill evening air.

Nonetheless huge charcoal-dense clouds closed-in for the kill and inexorably claimed the night. I pulled the curtains to and nonchalantly sat down to pen these words.


The wind played havoc with the trees as the branches frantically swayed to and fro, racked by what must have been one of the most tempestuous June days on record.

Overhead a menacing mass of imperious cloud glowered down, like a triumphant predator confident of the vulnerability and helplessness of its prey which, try as it might, would be unable to escape the implacable clutches of what had ensnared it in a merciless grip.

Though I am no lover of trees, I almost felt sorry for them, unaccustomed as they were to taking such a ferocious battering from autumnal weather in the middle of summer.


How high up were the nearest clouds? How far away were the most distant clouds? I had absolutely no idea. All I knew was that the nearest ones were dark and huge, whereas the most distant ones were light and small, altogether more patchy and less sullen in appearance, kind of metaphysical in their lightness.

It was as though the sky, torn between those two main cloud permutations, couldn’t make up its mind about which way to go, whether, in its twisted artistry, to close-in upon itself in ever denser mounds of threatening darkness or whether, perchance, to open-out towards feather-like puffs of translucent lightness.

It was as though the artists Bacon and Dali were struggling for supremacy in a schizoid sky riven by disparity, bereft of unity and harmony, torn asunder by its own contradictions.

I was praying for a Dalian victory and something approaching a metaphysical resolution of this strange paradox. Curiously enough, that was what subsequently ensued!

Eventually, the sun had the sky to itself, except for some high-flying ‘plane that left its signature trailing wisps of cloud-like plume across a narrow stretch of open sky. Bless it! The sun smiled on and I was transported to a richer realm of the mind in which consciousness of the sun’s role in sustaining the sky removed any lingering clouds of doubt about its Satanic opposition to mere space and the cosmic hell of naked stars that would otherwise appear to signal, with the fall of night, the death of religion and the birth of science.


It was one of those skies that resemble an iceberg-laden sea, with plenty of pale blue in between the strung-out puffy white clouds. Now even if clouds are not exactly to pilots what icebergs are to mariners, nonetheless there is a similarity of sorts between them, and one might be forgiven for seeing in paintings like Dali’s ‘Swans Reflecting Elephants’ the potential for clouds reflecting icebergs. For the sky, on this occasion, did seem to be reflecting somewhere close to the North or even South Pole, a mirror image ‘on high’ of what few of us ever get to see, never mind navigate, down where the ice melts into the freezing, if not exactly frozen, sea.

There is little place for the sun in such a skyscape, any more than with the kind of seascape at the world’s nether regions. But when it does show it shines with the kind of wistfully ethereal glow of a ghostly presence haunting the backdrop like a disinterested spectator, or spectre. For there could be no question that, in this particular setting, the clouds had stolen the show, and sure enough a bevy of puffy-white swans eventually emerged from one of them, to sail off into the night sky apparently without a care.


It could be said that the dichotomy – even polarity – between ‘Cavaliers’ and ‘Roundheads’ in the English Civil War back in the seventeenth century, that is, between flouncy-hatted royalists and round-helmeted parliamentarians, has a latter-day parallel of sorts in the distinction, for purposes of shielding oneself from the rain, between umbrellas and hoods, that is, between the centrifugal and the centripetal, ‘looseness’ and ‘tightness’, and that, though they might be loathe to admit it, the users of umbrellas would appear to approximate to the Anglicanism of the ‘Cavaliers’ and the users or, rather, wearers of hoods on hooded jackets to the Puritanism of the ‘Roundheads’, as in a kind of alpha/omega dichotomy along state-hegemonic axial lines (though one cannot, of course, rule out such a dichotomy along church-hegemonic axial lines).

Be that as it may, umbrellas open out in centrifugal fashion, whereas hoods usually have to be drawn-in tightly around the head of their wearers. In overall terms, this is virtually akin to a Cavalier/Roundhead-type distinction, even if such an analogy can only be loosely applied to a context which seems to be determined more by gender than by political or ideological affiliation.


The enemy of peace, now as before, is – you guessed it – woman! Hence life as it generally obtains in the world is fundamentally a condition of war (strife) in consequence of the execution and perpetuation, primarily though not exclusively on the part of females, of free will, which, contrary to popular belief, has nothing to do with God or, rather, godliness as a manifestation, in truth, of heavenly joy, its soulful precondition, but is a characteristic and product of the Devil or, rather, of Devil the Mother (hyped as God the Father).

Religion is the death, when true, of science, as Truth of Fact.

When religion declines into illusion, as it does when the masses take over, it paves the way, through myth and/or superstition, for the birth, out of illusory chaos, of science, whose compilation and exploitation of fact is not without a fictional ‘dark side’, epitomized by bound psyche, which manifests as art.

However, art can lead to the rebirth of religion, and thus to the truthful repudiation, through metaphysics, of fictional falsity, not least when appertaining to or stemming from the subconscious. For the subconscious, being psychic (if bound) is closer to the superconscious than is the supersensuous with which it is scientifically attached, female hand in female glove, so to speak.

But the decline of religious faith attendant upon the eclipse of superconscious enlightenment by subsensuous illusion, the comparative ‘darkness’ of metaphysical bound soma, paves the way, via the superstitious limitations of the female-dominated masses, for the rebirth of scientific fact, and thus of a return to supersensuous evil and the unequivocal domination, once again, of female values in the execution and perpetuation of free will, to the detriment of religion and, hence, the possibility of peace achieved on the basis of adherence, through truth, to heavenly joy, the joy of metaphysical selfhood in Heaven the Holy Soul.

War is now once again triumphant and life continues, even through art, to reflect the strife and suffering, on a ‘wheel’ of clockwise turning, of a female-dominated world.

To sum up (and excluding the corporeal antithesis between politics and economics which follows a similar, if more relative, pattern): science begins where superstition ends; art begins where science ends; religion begins where art ends; and mass-dominated decadent religion degenerates, under female pressures, into superstition (mysteries), out of which science must again arise like a phoenix from the proverbial ashes to light the torch of factual discovery and exploration for others, including artists, to carry, whether towards the plenum of metaphysical Eternity or back to the void (vacuum) of metachemical Infinity, as the noumenal case may be.


A great ball of dense cloud hovered over the landscape like a UFO or, rather, a flying saucer. Indeed, had there been a kind of tornado-like funnel or spout issuing from it, one might have supposed that an alien abduction was under way.

The landscape is far less changeable than the sky, rather dull and boring by contrast.

The branches of some nearby trees waved their hand-like leaves at the passing cloud like familiars saying goodbye to someone off on a long journey. Who knows how far that cloud will travel before it metamorphoses into another shape or hue or size or simply evaporates into thin air? Perhaps it will rain down watery droplets on someone or something and thus be relieved of the burden which it appears to be carrying from unconscious necessity.

The artist gets lost in the clouds in a way and to a degree that the average man cannot even begin to imagine. For him, they are a nebulous manifestation of the Holy Spirit which has risen from the earth (more specifically, from the waters of the earth) to adorn the sky in a variety of sizes, types, hues, tones, and formless masses of particle-bearing vaporous insubstantiality, which may or may not return to the earth from whence it came in the guise of rain or snow or something in between like sleet.

The best abstract art is inspired by cloud formations, not by geometrical forms or shapes, but by nature’s own abstract artistry, which rises above the corporeal earth like an ethereal intimation of the heavenly Beyond.

The swaying tree danced to the rhythms of the storm that swept about it with a ferocious gusto, bending it this way and that, to and fro, in and out, up and down, with never a hint of rest. The tree, forced to dance, was not at peace with itself, but appeared to be a victim of the storm, torn asunder by an imperious will that descended upon it like a bird of prey.

A lowering sky threatening a prostrate land with a deluge of rain – a not untypical English day!

She was the cloud in my sky, sometimes candy-floss, sometimes cotton wool, even occasionally an iceberg that melted into the setting sun of my dreams before splashing down on the earth as fallen rain, some of which would evaporate and begin the slow climb back to the sky of my ideals and transcendent aloofness from whatever went on down below.


No artist or serious writer should be obliged to live with ‘the people’ – all those who try to deride and disparage and generally discourage one from being true to oneself and one’s creative vocation. If, as a practising writer and philosopher, I have had to live with ‘the people’, i.e. immediate neighbours (including kids and couples), in squalid overcrowded lodgings, it is because the British refuse to recognize me as an artist and/or writer, preferring to turn a blind eye to that which does not serve their purposes or suit their particular kind of state-hegemonic world view.

Most people, lacking the courage of art, are content merely to criticize and condemn, to disparage and belittle, as though from a superior vantage-point, more knowing and implicitly if not explicitly capable. They may fool themselves, but they have never fooled me!


The sky meditated upon the clouds and came to the conclusion that, as interlopers from below, they were having it too easy. So, with the help of a brisk wind, it began to blow around them until they were transformed from one size and shape into another, sometimes smaller, sometimes larger, at other times more or less the same size as one another, but in a state of perpetual change and … motion. Either they would be blown away altogether and the sky would have the sun to itself or, forming into dense mounds that would gradually spread out all over the place, they would block out the sun and rain upon the earth, causing people to frown up at the sky as though what fell from above was a product of the sky and not of the clouds which, with the help of the wind, had completely obscured it.

It eventually became a heavy metal (Iron Maiden?) kind of skyscape, as a flock of smudgy clouds conspired to snuff out the sunlight and thereby deprive its host of a memorable sunset.


A dull, lacklustre day weighing heavily upon the soul and causing one to feel morose, trapped in a world without light or hope. Such days, alas, are all too frequent in England!

In fact, it was a day when, in Nietzsche’s memorable phrase, to be ‘sans genie et sans esprit’ would have been almost excusable.

A typical Englishman might, as Nietzsche suggests, be without genius (intelligence) or spirit, but he would certainly have a determination not to allow it all, least of all the dull weather, to get him downhearted.

Probably it was on such a day that the game of football was invented. Certainly such overcast days seem to accord with the playing of football, and the inevitability, in such circumstances, of no points or scores over the bar!


June dribbled into July with hardly a ray of hope, much less sun! I felt that the end of the world was overdue.


Truth is the reflection of Joy, God, or godliness, the reflection of Heaven. Like candlelight to candle-flame, the former wouldn’t exist but for the latter, which is its essential precondition.

But even though we see candle-flame as candlelight, the outer manifestation, as it were, of the flame burning away in the centre of the candle, the light and the flame thereof are essentially one and the same.

Likewise, Truth and Joy, or God and Heaven, are essentially one and the same, the former being no more than the outer manifestation of an inner condition or experience. One can say ‘God in Heaven’ as one would say Truth in Joy, since there can be no Truth in this ultimate or metaphysical sense except for the condition of Joy in the Soul (spinal cord and/or central nervous system as the ‘heart’, that is, core of the Self).

Therefore God does not exist independently of Heaven, any more than Truth exists independently of Joy, and to claim otherwise is simply to settle for either Devil the Mother hyped as God the Father (Creator-ism) or some intermediate corporeal entity between the Devil and Heaven like Woman (Woman the Mother/Mother of God) or Man (Son of Man/Son of God), neither of which are genuinely godly (as the outer face, so to speak, of Heaven), but simply corporeal shortfalls or alternatives to what is properly religious because metaphysical and therefore subjectively ethereal.

Better, in a way, such corporeal shortfalls or alternatives, corresponding to ‘idols of the tribe’, than the objectively ethereal Lie of … Devil the Mother hyped as God the Father (Creator), which is the alpha antithesis of the omega, like science of religion, the ‘First Mover’ as opposed to the ‘Last Condition’ corresponding, in its Joy, to the Supreme Being, that is, to a supreme condition of beingfulness which one would identify with the joy of Heaven the Holy Soul.

God, as traditionally conceived and envisaged, not least in relation to the Creator, the so-called Father, etc., is really the enemy of Heaven, since the embodiment, on a female basis corresponding to metachemistry, of free will, that ‘First Mover’ which contrasts, as alpha to omega, with the free soul of the Supreme Being, with the supremely beingful condition, in other words, of Heaven, and which, contrary to being Truth in Joy, or God in Heaven, is Love in Beauty, or Hell in the Devil.

The more we emphasize Heaven at the expense of God (the Father), that is, at the expense of Devil the Mother, the less scientific and the more religious do we become, leaving both politics and economics to their opposite types of corporeal ‘gods’ down below in the world, whether in relation to woman or to man, to chemistry or to physics. For the more we emphasize Truth or, rather, Joy at the expense of Beauty, the more metaphysical and the less metachemical do we become, to the greater contentment of soul achieved on the basis of a categorical rejection of will and, intermediately, of spirit and ego, those twin impostors of the world over which netherworldly and otherworldly antitheses struggle for control.


There is nought beyond the sky but what we – and possibly equivalent life forms elsewhere in the Cosmos – put there. But there is a hell of a lot behind it, in the deeper regions of space.

An element of ambiguity as to whether something is behind or beyond the sky could well be attributable, in many people’s minds, to the influence of traditional religion which, hamstrung by science, not to mention by politics and economics, has always come-up well short of an unequivocal endorsement of the omega, since conditioned by the alpha hyped as God and failing to understand that religion, when true, that is, true to itself, has nothing to do with ‘God’, i.e. Devil the Mother hyped as God the Father (‘best of a bad job’ starting-point for civilization as generally applicable to the Judeo-Christian tradition) and everything to do with Heaven, which is psyche as opposed to soma, soul as opposed to will, male as opposed to female, metaphysics as opposed to metachemistry, Being as opposed to Doing, an Ultimate Creation as opposed to the so-called Creator, and so on.

Religion hamstrung by cosmic science (stellar-wise) is the Judaic anchor of the political and economic ‘bovaryizations’ of religion that are equatable with the Christian tradition, and no ‘bovaryization’ of religion, whether scientific, political, or economic, can possibly be true. That would only be possible on an all-inclusive widespread scale with ‘Kingdom Come’, so to speak, and therefore with the refinement of globalization to a point where culture and civility or, more correctly, pseudo-civility democratically replace the pseudo-barbarity and philistinism of those indirectly ruled over, from a contrary axial standpoint, by the barbarous and the pseudo-philistine, whose somatic licence is financed, from a profiteering motive, by the pseudo-cultural and civil polarities to themselves on the state-hegemonic/church-subordinate axis, the secular fruit, in this day and age, of schismatic heresy, and thus the return of ‘civilization’ to free female criteria at the expense of male aspirations, on the church-hegemonic/state-subordinate axis, towards freedom from such criteria and therefore freedom for, to paraphrase Nietzsche, soulful peace-of-mind achieved on the basis of the utmost male-hegemonic criteria in metaphysics and the subordination, in consequence, of females, as pseudo-females, to a pseudo-metachemical deference to metaphysics (as to religion) from a position of scientific neutralization effectively equivalent, in its pseudo-scientific binding, to the proverbial neutralized dragon under the saintly heel, a neutralized XX-chromosomal pseudo-angel under a triumphantly free Y-chromosomal saint, the ‘lamb of godliness’ over the lion and/or wolf that ‘lies down’ with the ‘lamb’ only because it has been neutralized and rendered incapable of attacking it (presumably on the basis of the utilization of an XX-chromosomal cosh, so to speak, to a reproductive, and therefore world-perpetuating, end.


A long snake-like trail of low-lying dense cloud across the far sky (but above the horizon) gradually split into two before joining back together again as the cloud in front was devoured by the open mouth of the one behind – at least to the extent that a gap between them was no longer visible.

The rest of the sky, which was cloudless, looked on unperturbed through its pale blue eyes, which only occasionally blinked at the setting sun.


Body-building star suckers! I must be too Christian or insufficiently a ‘sonofabitch’ to be capable of taking all that body-building (get the girls) shite for granted.

Life is not Christian, much less Superchristian, but you can be Christian and/or Superchristian in life despite the fact that most people will not be. Rather, like if not as athletes, they will be flexing their muscles and ‘building’ their bodies for the power struggles that tend to characterize their lives, though that will not preclude some of them from crossing themselves or even from wearing crosses – evidently as ornaments.

Meanwhile the body builders, the athletes, the dancers, the footballers, the acrobats, and all the rest of them will be having a field day in this age of secular freedom or, as I prefer to say, of somatic licence … to defy and deride somatic binding (the crucifixional paradigm), though with some justification, I have to say, in view of the Christian – mainly Catholic – tradition’s reluctance to advocate free psyche.


You could be living in one of the nicest detached houses in a secluded part of town or wherever, but still there will be times when the grey skies press threateningly against the windowpanes and the rain and/or wind sweeps around the property with a vengeance and, even without domestic or financial or professional or social or other problems and worries, causes one to feel alone and … generally dejected. Worldly success only goes so far in relation to the inherent unpleasantness of life, of a world constantly beset by inclemencies of one kind or another, and sometimes by manifest disasters!


It has been said – and widely believed – that women are the weaker sex, but I don’t for one moment believe that to be the case myself. They may appear weaker from a male standpoint, which is more ego and/or soul, or vegetation and/or air, than will and/or spirit, or fire and/or water, but when it comes to will and spirit, women are not exactly lacking in those respects. In fact, it could be said that they embody will and spirit to a degree that would be uncharacteristic of anything properly male.

The fact that women generally keep to their own interests as women is what makes them appear weaker from a male angle, since when they do venture across the gender fence, as it were, their commitment to what is properly male in ego and/or soul is, to say the least, less than wholehearted…. Understandably, since they are women and have little or nothing to gain from trying to emulate – much less outdo – men.

If by sticking more fundamentally to what concerns them as women they appear weaker in relation to what is essentially male in its concern with psyche as opposed to soma, with mind as opposed to body, then that is only to be expected in view of their own strengths, namely the exploitation and utilization of will and spirit to a reproductive end, an end which, in regard to spirit, is closer to strength per se than is any 'bovaryized' strength stemming, in muscular vein, from the projection or, rather, corruption of ego attendant upon being a pseudo-physical ‘sonofabitch’ habitually in close proximity to what, in watery vein, properly appertains to strength as that which is chemically hegemonic over pseudo-physics, with its carnal, or 'bovaryized', order of knowledge the product, in large part, of female hegemonic pressure and effective control not so much of vegetation (brain) as of pseudo-vegetation (phallus-oriented flesh), in which, compared with anything female, a secondary order of free soma (pseudo-free soma) is the pseudo-physical rule, one that has to be logically equated, like it or not, with folly, given its lesser ratio aspect (1½) to the greater ratio aspect (2½) of pseudo-bound psyche that constitutes sin as a uniquely pseudo-male order of negativity.


Hammer and anvil – what outlasts what? Simple. The anvil, like women outlasting men, or strength per se the 'bovaryized' strength which is male or, rather, pseudo-male in its pseudo-vegetative (muscular) pseudo-physical departure, under female hegemonic pressures, from the vegetative per se (cerebral) of physics, or mental as opposed to bodily (carnal) knowledge. In simple elemental terms, water has the advantage (hegemonically) over pseudo-vegetation, as chemistry over pseudo-physics, or woman over pseudo-man - the meek ‘sonofabitch’ for ever in the pocket, so to speak, of pseudo-vanity, which is akin to the anvil that absorbs and withstands whatever the hammer throws at it from a subordinate gender standpoint.


The true genius – artist, writer, philosopher, or whatever – suffers for his art. It may be that he is constantly being opposed, persecuted, vilified, ridiculed, teased, tortured, denigrated, etc., by his neighbours (including the landlord and his family if he happens to be in that kind of lodging-house predicament compounded, it may be, by ethnic incompatibilities or even animosities), but still he continues with his work and suffers for his art. He does not ‘throw in the towel’ and either abandon it or move elsewhere in the false belief that things will somehow – as if by magic – be better there. He perseveres with his cause, his vocational commitment, and suffers for it.

This is an important aspect of what constitutes his greatness as one separated from the majority of men (not excepting women and children) by his genius, his determination to survive and ‘see it through’ to the very end, wherever and whenever that may be. The world is not on his side, neither, for that matter, is he on the world’s side. Rather he is likely to be an advocate and harbinger of otherworldly values and the prospect, thereby, of ‘Kingdom Come’.


The only kind of so-called ‘divine right’ I fear is the presumption, bordering on entitlement, of Beauty to a reproductive end, the female confident in her power to utilize her attributes, via sex, in the interests of a surrogate plenum, namely the child, and the consequent perpetuation of worldly values. This, I must confess, horrifies me, and to say that there is no alternative to it – as many film-makers do – is to deny any possibility of Christian, or Christian-like, salvation (of adult males) from the clutches of women.

This is something that must be rectified, but such a rectification can only happen within the wider context of ‘Kingdom Come’, when and where it can be brought to pass.


Some call the jungle Eden, as a place where Nature reigns under female auspices and you live in harmony not with yourself or, more correctly, your Self, but with the natural world, including, not least, woman.

I despise this standpoint, which conveniently leaves kids and therefore the consequences of sex, whether or not in connection with family values or, rather, marriage leading to family, out of the frameless picture of Edenic paradise. It rather smacks of Jean-Jacques Rousseau and his disciples, including, almost by default, D.H. Lawrence.

They can keep their euphemistic jungle (which smacks of a glorified park rather than a place where wild animals inevitably complement the even wilder vegetation) so far as I am concerned, together with the touchingly populist notion that peace and love are intimately intertwined, if not synonymous. They worship only the Star, not the Cross, and they would never dream of taking up the Cross, much less the Supercross of what has still to come (presumably with ‘Kingdom Come’), to spurn Beauty through Truth, thereby gaining access to that Joy which smilingly turns away from Love as from the complement to Beauty in the free soma of that Superstar which is the basis of delusional God-belief in a world still dominated by that which excludes metaphysical grace from a Creator-esque point of view synonymous with metachemistry, albeit metachemistry hyped as metaphysics in terms of Devil the Mother hyped as God the Father.

Oh for a repudiation of the Lie in the interests of Truth and the possibility, thereby, of Heaven the Holy Soul!


The Beatles were doubtless great, but the Rolling Stones, who are still rolling in 2012, are considerably greater. So much so that comparisons between the two bands begin to dwindle and one is obliged to admit that even U2 may by now be more musically significant and culturally important than the Beatles.


My poor health scandalizes me every day. I seem to spend most of the time blowing my nose – to no avail! Since no sooner have I blown it once into a paper tissue than I am obliged to blow it again! My compliments to the Creator, though 'She' cannot exactly be accused of having created, much less invented, computers, which are probably more detrimental to my health than might at first meet the eye.


It was man that created the notion of sin, not God – or what passes for God in conventional religions.


The so-called ‘Fall of Man’, about which I have often written, if, over the years, from differing points of view, is really the fall of the female from a superfeminine position in metachemical beauty to a feminine position in chemical strength or, more correctly from the standpoint of a chemical fulcrum, pride – the pride attendant upon having acquired a surrogate plenum through maternity, which is less will than spirit, less hell, one might say, than purgatory.

Correlative with this primary mode of clockwise cycling, which of course recycles itself over and over within the same female and not just across the generations, is the secondary cycling of the pseudo-male (‘sonofabitch’) who follows the female around (the clock) on a kind of dotted-line basis commensurate with a ‘fall’ from pseudo-metaphysics (under metachemistry) to pseudo-physics (under chemistry), neither of which pseudo-elemental positions would have anything to do with sensibility, much less a male hegemony (over pseudo-chemistry) in physics or (over pseudo-metachemistry) in metaphysics, both of which only emerged – and not without a considerable struggle with or, rather, against the more sensual status quo – subsequent to the alpha-dominated positions of hegemonic female criteria with the development of axial polarity, whether of a church-hegemonic (southwest to northeast points of the intercardinal axial compass) or of a state-hegemonic (northwest to southeast points of the intercardinal axial compass) orientation, in broadly Catholic and Puritan guises respectively.

So there is no ‘fall of man’; only an inevitable and (from the female point of view) desirable ‘fall of woman’ leading to the downfall of man, who still labours under female dominion as someone in dire need of deliverance, through salvation, from such a dominion, as from pseudo-physics to metaphysics, with the correlative counter-damnation of the female from chemistry to pseudo-metachemistry, wherein the ‘first’ will be ‘last’ and the ‘last’ be ‘first’, or unequivocally hegemonic, as metaphysical male, over a pseudo-metachemical pseudo-female – the proverbial ‘lamb’ and (neutralized or ‘pseudo’) ‘lion' and/or 'wolf’ of Biblical teaching, not to mention ‘saint’ and (neutralized) ‘dragon’.


The electric guitarist/keyboardist – people like John Mayall, Steve Winwood, David Sancious, even Chris de Burgh – could be regarded as a kind of musical liberal in between the comparatively left-wing orientation of electric guitarists and the comparatively right-wing orientation of electric keyboardists – at least you can see a logical case for such an inference, even if exceptions to the general rule continue to exist.


Panic in the trees

As the wind shook the branches.

Panic in the trees

As storm clouds gathered overhead.

Panic in the trees

As the rain began to fall.

Panic in the trees

As the setting sun withdrew its light,

leaving the trees to the ravages of night.


Was that a demonic shadow that passed across the wan face of the declining sun?

Or was the sun itself possessed of a demonic shade that stole away its light?

The sky was declining into night as the first stars began to appear above the horizon to signal the arrival of Beauty on the heels of the reluctant departure of the nearest thing to Truth that the sky possessed.

I am no scientist to wax rhapsodic over the dawning of night, regretting only the passing of daylight and the end of the religious illusion which shadowed the sun like a crucified saviour, bereft of independent existence.

Yet the air, as on other such occasions, was still breathable, even if one inhaled it with an air of constraint, as though fearful of the entry, on its primeval wings, of some demon of the night that hailed straight from the fiery heart of the Cosmos, like a messenger of strife.

One took to one’s bed, on such occasions, with a heavy heart and slept but fitfully, impatiently awaiting the return of daylight and the rebirth of religious hope.

For anything is possible with the coming of day, and in the morning I would wash the night out of my skin as though being re-baptized into the light, wherein the work of ‘Kingdom Come’ goes on.


Those women who come out at night like so many evil spirits on the prowl, waiting to pounce on the first unsuspecting male and inject the poison of love into the veins of a heart struck down by Beauty.

It is in the depths of the night that the Devil’s work goes on under the guise of play.


The dome of the sky was rent asunder by the arrival of night, and the prospect of Eternity disappeared into the black hole of cosmic infinity whose space unleashed the powers of will to shine down from condescending heights upon a prostrate world below.

Soon one would seek the solace of dreams to cover one’s nakedness before this cosmic onslaught.

On this occasion there was insufficient cloud cover to protect one from the merciless eyes of the all-seeing night, whose stellar legions paraded their vanity with apparent impunity.

If only the sky had shed more of its blood in the guise of angelic clouds, we would have been saved, at least temporarily, from the supernatural onslaught which tore into the earth like a rain of comets.


Being of Irish Catholic descent, with a marked predilection towards transcendentalism/idealism, I make sure that the open window in my room is closed when the light fades and the night comes on, with its cosmic darkness in materialist/fundamentalist freedom (soma) and binding (psyche), the fulcrums of free will brightly evident in the night sky. Unlike a Brit who, in my experience of state-hegemonic axial criteria, is more likely to leave his window open at such a time, I am content to draw the curtains across the dark face of night and leave the evil spirits carried on a skyless wind to torment whom they will, all those who are open to such torments and suffer the lustful consequences with neither complaint nor demur.

Heaven is not possible if you are rooted in Hell, a creature of the night who feigns to despise those who shun the prying eyes of stars from the safety of their enclosed room and closed window.


I protect my religion, my soul, by repudiating science, the will, with its empirical disregard for self-contentment. I achieve Heaven by rejecting Hell. I am no advocate or apologist of science, à la Bertrand Russell. Still less am I rooted in the Cosmos, like Arthur Koestler. I climbed over such thinkers to get to my own heights, which are supra-Catholic in their transcendentalism (though not, on that account, Buddhist). I tower beyond even the Nietzschean incapacity for ‘otherworldsmen’. I find more to admire in Baudelaire, a so-called ‘poète maudit'. At least he believed in true progress, that is, in enlightenment as a process of inner freedom borne on the wings, one could say, of some kind of Catholic orientation or ethnicity such that even Hitler may have had an inkling of.


The ruler of the skies had just gone to bed, though he hadn’t gone meekly but with a final burst of crimson light that seemed like an angry retort to some unseen jibe from a malevolent force lurking just over the horizon in the shadows of night.

Fade then, old ruler, for tomorrow you’ll be back with a smiling face, as if to say ‘I told you so’, that will eclipse what this evening you appeared to be signalling, as though through clenched teeth, ‘I’m having the last laugh’. Ha, ha!


It was one of those perfect days (in England) when the sun had the sky to itself and nothing had come up from below to veil its face and bathe the sky in a flood of tears which would fall upon the earth as rainwater.

The simple might have invoked ‘the Lord’ (the sun) on such a day to give them their bread or, at any rate, to cause to grow quicker and stronger that which, as wheat or barley or whatever, might eventually lead to bread and the loaves with which we were overly familiar.

I, however, was not one of those simple souls but, rather, a self-taught and self-made man who thought for himself and would never have identified the sun with ‘the Lord’, even if it appeared to be, in some sense, lord of the sky and a kind of father that dwelt in the sky as in Heaven or a kind of heaven that contrasted with the so-called ‘heavens’ of the myriad stars, those hellish embodiments of free will that ruled over the Cosmos as one with the cosmic night.

Now if the sun was in the sky as a kind of God in Heaven (an illusion of the day, to be sure), then so were the stars in space like devils in hell, the hell of an infinite void the appearance of which was ever dark, in contrast to the day’s brightness, or comparative brightness (not forgetting the plethora of cloudy days).

Ah, but this was still a far cry from what I know about the positive side of Hell (love) being in the positive side of the Devil (beauty) in absolute gender contrast to the positive side of God (truth) being in the positive side of Heaven (joy), and what I knew, including their correlative negative sides, did not lend itself to simple analogues with either the Cosmos or Nature, not even the higher nature that was the perfect day of an unblemished sky from which the sun shone down so brightly, like a powerful extraterrestrial torch that could illuminate any darkness, barring the darkness of night and the hidden darkness of the undisclosed soul.


Using bound psyche (the dark side) in defence of free soma (the bright side) is a female strategy commensurate with either the utilization of fundamentalism in defence of materialism (in metachemistry) or the utilization of pantheism in defence of naturalism (in chemistry), whereas the use of bound soma (the dark side) in defence of free psyche (the bright side) is a male strategy commensurate with either the utilization of realism in defence of humanism (in physics) or the utilization of idealism in defence of transcendentalism (in metaphysics).

The female strategies tend to revolve around dance and sex, the male ones around sport and war, neither of which would be possible except in conjunction with subordinate gender positions for the opposite sex (whichever one that may happen to be in any given context) along the lines of pseudo-war under dance and pseudo-sport under sex with regard to the female hegemonic contexts of metachemistry (over pseudo-metaphysics) and chemistry (over pseudo-physics) on the one hand, and of pseudo-sex under sport and pseudo-dance under war with regard to the male hegemonic contexts of physics (over pseudo-chemistry) and metaphysics (over pseudo-metachemistry) on the other hand, since dance and war are as incommensurate as sex and sport, even if dance tends to lead (down) to sex and, conversely, sport tends to lead (up) to war, with or without (though more usually with) the accompanying pseudo-disciplines of the subordinate gender, i.e. pseudo-war in relation to dance and pseudo-sport in relation to sex on the one hand (devolutionary), and pseudo-sex in relation to sport and pseudo-dance in relation to war on the other hand (evolutionary).

Whereas dance and war are the alpha and omega of the noble, sex and sport are the alpha and omega of the plebeian – a distinction, after all, between the ethereal and the corporeal, the noumenal and the phenomenal, the absolute and the relative, whether in relation to the concrete or the abstract. For the concrete and the abstract are in effect the alpha and omega, the female and male modes of antithetical disciplinary activity, whether in terms of the absolute or the relative, to what I have described as the noble or the plebeian modes of concretion and abstraction, the former being antithetically ethereal and the latter antithetically corporeal, as between the elemental particles of noumenal objectivity vis-a-vis the elemental wavicles of noumenal subjectivity in the case of the noble, but the molecular particles of phenomenal objectivity vis-a-vis the molecular wavicles of phenomenal subjectivity in the case of the plebeian.

Hence the devolution from dance to sex on the female side of the gender divide is from the concretion, in somatic objectivity, of elemental particles to molecular particles, as from will (fire) to spirit (water), in contrast to the evolution from sport to war on the male side of the gender divide being from the abstraction, in psychic subjectivity, of molecular wavicles to elemental wavicles, as from ego (vegetation) to soul (air). Dance may be an ethereal means to a corporeal end in sex, as sport a corporeal means to an ethereal end in war, but neither sex nor war are ends-in-themselves but only means to a greater end, the end of maternity in the case of females and the end of eternity in the case of males.

Should there be 'a war to end all wars' it will be because eternity will have been achieved in such a fashion that never again could war arise or be necessary to the achievement of a greater peace. It will be because the peace of eternity will have been definitively achieved by the victorious and the age of historical struggles have been superseded by the age of eternal peace in ‘Kingdom Come’, the becoming having given way to the become of perfect being through world overcoming and the reign of a definitive metaphysics over a prostrate pseudo-metachemistry, as described and defined in so many of my published writings.


If females are generally devolutionary and males, by contrast, evolutionary, as befitting the contrast between objectivity (vacuum) and subjectivity (plenum), then it seems to me that, in addition to a general devolution from beauty to strength, females devolve from beauty and/or strength to ugliness and/or weakness, whereas, in addition to a general evolution from knowledge to truth, males evolve from ignorance and/or illusion to knowledge and/or truth, beauty and truth being the positively absolute alpha and omega, strength and knowledge the positively relative alpha and omega, in contrast to ugliness and illusion being the negatively absolute alpha and omega, but weakness and ignorance the negatively relative alpha and omega.


The bright orange glow of a spectacular sunset upon which I have privately superimposed the mellifluous strains of a Tangerine Dream track while wearing a dark orange T-shirt over a pale green vest (closer to my heart) which seems to be the perfect sartorial complement to my mindset on this remorselessly hot late July evening.


It is far worse to lie to oneself than to lie to others. The worst one can do is to lie to oneself; for then one can never be true to others, whether or not they approve of one.


I live in a kind of limbo as an Irish-born Irish citizen in Britain, neither British (to the extent that I was born in Ireland of an Irish father) nor Irish (to the extent that I have lived all but the first two-and-a-half years of my life in England), but one who is accustomed to standing back and leading a non-committal existence as a solitary outsider who nonetheless has principles which are rigorously adhered to as a means of ensuring that, even if I cannot be fully or properly Irish, I do not sell out to Britain and become British (which I think would be unlikely in any case), given my antipathy to state-hegemonic/church-subordinate axial criteria, with all their attendant cultural, social, and political concomitant factors.


Unequal vision in each eye = unequal corrective lenses in each eye = unbalanced mind subject to contrary pressures, leading to depression and confusion.


When we speak of the absolute, which is noumenal and/or ethereal, whether in relation to metachemistry or to metaphysics, we are dealing with a 3:1 ratio of either soma to psyche (metachemistry) or psyche to soma (metaphysics) and should therefore use the superlatives ‘most’ and ‘least’, whether in terms, obviously, of soma or psyche.

When, on the other hand, we speak of the relative, which is phenomenal and/or corporeal, whether in relation to chemistry or to physics, we are dealing with a 2½:1½ ratio of either soma to psyche (chemistry) or psyche to soma (physics) and should therefore use the comparatives ‘more’ and ‘less’, again whether in terms of soma or psyche.

Hence whilst in metachemistry there is most soma (free) and least psyche (bound), in chemistry there will be more – compared to most – soma (free) and less – compared to least – psyche (bound), both of which elemental positions, corresponding to the ethereal and the corporeal respectively, are objective and therefore female in consequence of their vacuous character.

By contrast, whilst in physics there is more – compared to most – psyche (free) and less – compared to least – soma (bound), in metaphysics there will be most psyche (free) and least soma (bound), both of which elemental positions, corresponding to the corporeal and the ethereal respectively, are subjective and therefore male in consequence of their plenumous character, since abstractions (in their respective free aspects in particular) from the concrete nature of metachemistry and chemistry (in their respective free aspects in particular), metachemistry having given rise, via pseudo-metaphysics, to a physical polarity hegemonic over pseudo-chemistry; chemistry having given rise, via pseudo-physics, to a metaphysical polarity hegemonic over pseudo-metachemistry.


If memory and experience serve me well, French is not particularly popular with most English schoolboys, the reason being that, with its adherence to gender (including the neuter), it is at least three times more complicated than English, But perhaps the absence of German from the mainstream curriculum has something to do with the fact that it is at least six times more complicated than French, and therefore approximately nine times more complicated than English. That, at any rate, is how it seems to me, a dedicated student of the German language principally though not exclusively via film, and even now, after years of study, I am inclined to the view that unless you grow up with German, preferably in Germany, you will never be truly proficient or fluent in this most difficult of languages, one in which person, gender, and tense are compounded by case.


Having had my interest in World War Two rekindled by the television series ‘World War 2 – The Complete History’, I would say, where the principal leaders and/or rulers are concerned, that I prefer Stalin to Emperor Hirohito, Churchill to Stalin, Roosevelt to Churchill, Mussolini to Roosevelt, and Hitler to Mussolini.


The only kind of Lord I have anything to do with – and then reluctantly – is the landlord, whom I detest.


Two fellas sitting at a bar and pissed out of their minds. One says to the other: ‘Can you speak Polish?’

No,’ comes the reply, ‘but I can sell polish.’

Perhaps you could sell some to me,’ says the first, ‘so that I can brush up on my Polish.’

Are your shoes Polish, then’ says the second fella.’

No, says the first, ‘but they will be by the time I’ve finished polishing them.’


Because females tend to be positive in their bodies and negative in their minds, they have the ability to intimidate males into sexual and familial acquiescence in their beauty … should that prove insufficiently alluring, thereby facilitating reproduction.

Because, on the other hand, males tend to be positive in their minds and negative in their bodies, they are instrumental in furthering history, or the historical progress, through the utilization of force, when and where necessary, in the service of some ideal or principle.

It is females who make babies and males who make war, children having been traditionally reared, from an early age, to play at being either doll-carrying mothers or gun-carrying soldiers; to play, according to gender, with dolls houses or toy soldiers, thereby presaging their future roles as agents of either reproduction or, in the male case, of revolution, meaning the defence and/or advancement of an ideal by whichever means are deemed most appropriate, including the utilization of physical and/or metaphysical force.

Perish the thought that life should be reduced to the female concern with the achievement of maternity at the expense of those male ideals revolving around the defence and/or advancement of an ideal, not to mention the Ideal of … ‘Kingdom Come’ in relation to the ultimate triumph of metaphysics not only over that aspect of the world according with pseudo-physics but, indirectly, over the chemical aspect of the world through its counter-damnation to pseudo-metachemistry under metaphysics, like the proverbial neutralized dragon under the saintly heel, the Saint whose hand holds the lance of that which, in the spirit of martial valour, is most efficacious in neutralizing the dragon-threat and keeping that which would otherwise utilize a fiery XX-chromosomal breath firmly underfoot and in no position to revolt against the light(ness) of psychic freedom from a standpoint no longer somatically bound or, more correctly, somatically pseudo-bound compliments of the bound soma proper to metaphysical psychic freedom, the freedom of freedoms and guarantor of heavenly grace for all Eternity.

When, through Social Theocracy, religion slays the dragon of science, reducing it to a pseudo-scientific subordination, then will ‘Kingdom Come’ have properly transpired, to signify the eternal victory of Transcendentalism/Idealism over Materialism/Fundamentalism, the latter reduced, via the pantheism/naturalism of chemistry, to a pseudo-fundamentalist/pseudo-materialist secondary church-hegemonic/state-subordinate status analogous to the symbolism epitomized by St. George and the Dragon or, in equivalent symbolic terms, the ‘Lamb of God’ and the ‘Wolf’ that is, perforce, obliged to ‘lie down’ with Him because of the extent and nature of its neutralization, a neutralization properly applicable, beyond metaphorical exemplification, to what is female, objective, vacuous, scientific, metachemical, autocratic, etc.

War, when properly motivated by an ideal that approaches or approximates to Truth, viz. metaphysical godliness, is closer to theocracy than to autocracy, because it is the religious ideal that requires the bound soma of metaphysical force to defend and/or advance itself in the teeth of opposition, if not reaction.

War motivated by religion is truly noble and should not be confounded with the pseudo-war waged by the night-time apologists of dance (jazz), as of female hegemonic criteria in general. Nor should it be confused with the defence and/or advancement of humanistic criteria under the aegis of some economic ideal (a necessarily false ideal like capitalist free enterprise) inimical to religion, or to that which is concerned not with man but, in a manner of speaking, with God (not to be confused with Devil the Mother hyped, in Creator-esque vein, as God the Father, or with extrapolations thereof), that is, with ‘God in Heaven’, the ultimate triumph of which, in ‘Kingdom Come’, will bring religion to a heavenly apotheosis beyond the limitations of religious tradition in which the concept of God is rather more prominent than would be desirable from a definitively religious standpoint, which, of course, I incline to identify with Social Theocracy.

Christ is reputed to have brought a sword to cleave the faithless from the faithful, the sheep from the goats, the chaff from the wheat, etc., and those who follow Christ have been enjoined to leave wives, daughters, sisters, mothers – in short females – behind in order to take up the Cross and, as Christian soldiers, fight the ‘good fight’ for the triumph of metaphysics in a world dominated by other powers. So should it be!

But those who follow me, an avowed Superchristian (Social Theocrat) whose emblem is the Y-like Supercross, should be advised that the world and that which rules over it (whether axially directly or axially indirectly) will not hand us ‘Kingdom Come’ on a plate, so to speak, and that it will be a long and difficult fight with much suffering and sacrifice by those who, salmon-like, swim upstream against the natural current towards the cutting-edge of evolutionary progress where the going can only get tougher and things become very hot indeed in the course of the struggle against reaction.

For the cutting-edge of evolution is necessarily hot in the teeth of its Promethean struggle with the more prevalent powers of natural – and female-dominated – reaction and rejection of true, that is, religious progress. It will not be a case of fighting the ‘good fight’, but of fighting the ‘true fight’ for the ultimate triumph of heavenly peace and the end of history in the eternity of ‘Kingdom Come’, truly the end-product of a ‘war to end all wars’.


Iron Maiden are no weak-minded ‘sons-of-bitches’, but one of the noblest bands on the planet.


As I’ve said on many a previous occasion, God is the chief religious lie, the lie of Devil the Mother hyped as God the Father which gave ‘rise’, in due Christian relativistic course, to Marian and Christic ‘thingful’ extrapolations from the anterior ‘thingfulness’, or stellar-based somatic concretion, of the so-called Creator.

Somatic, too, in their different gender ways, are the Christian extrapolations from the Judaic anchor to Western civilization, and such ‘idols of the Christian tribes’, or focal-points of worship, seem to focus religious attention, in typically Christian vein, not on the Devil (or Devil the Mother hyped as God the Father) but on Woman (as Mother) and Man (as Son), even if, to their respective Christian devotees, such ‘idols’ or ‘images’ are susceptible to being identified with God, as though the concept ‘Mother of God’ (catholic) inevitably led to the concept ‘Son of God’ not being regarded in that light but, rather, as God in His own Christian right – surely a mistaken standpoint in view of the anterior attribution of the concept ‘God’ to the so-called Creator or, as I prefer to say, to Devil the Mother hyped as God the Father.

Frankly, I despise and logically repudiate all these impostors and manifestations of religious ‘bovaryization’, from the most 'bovaryized' (scientific) impostor of Devil the Mother to the least 'bovaryized’ (pseudo-religious) impostor of ‘Son of God’ via the more (relative to most) 'bovaryized’ (political) impostor of ‘Mother of God’ and the less (relative to least) 'bovaryized’ (economic) impostor of ‘Son of Man’, the latter of which tends to be more Puritan than Catholic (whether Roman or Anglican) in character.

Be that as it may, true religion cannot abide the religious impostors of state religion, whether of a scientific, a political, an economic, or a pseudo-religious cast – this latter being the bound metaphysical soma of the crucifixional paradigm without the prior benefit of metaphysical free psyche by dint of the straining-on-the-leash, so to speak, of the Roman Catholic aspiration towards metaphysical truth in consequence of its extrapolative nature from the Judaic anchor of the so-called Creator ... of Devil the Mother hyped as God the Father … to the mainstream Christian tradition which precludes all but a tangential metaphysics - the bound soma of the crucifixional paradigm - from existing because of the continued rule of metachemistry in relation to the so-called Father, thereby ensuring that not only is the truncated metaphysics bogus in itself, but that the main aspect of metaphysics which corresponds to its most (3) as opposed to least (1) ratio factor, namely the free psyche in which the heavenly (soulful) fulcrum of metaphysics is to be found, remains ‘beyond the pale’, as it were, of the Roman Catholic tradition.

Such can only continue to be the case until ‘Kingdom Come’, should a majority mandate be secured from the relevant masses of Catholic countries like Eire (the Republic of Ireland) for what I call religious sovereignty, and a full complement of metaphysics, together with a subordinate pseudo-metachemistry (pseudo-scientific) for females (as pseudo-females) is then established independently of the Judaic anchor to the Western mainstream tradition (catholic) and therefore independently of the Judeo-Christian tradition itself, as befitting the further development of global civilization to a point where ‘Kingdom Come’ can actually be established on earth as it is in the heaven of my true religious writings, my politico-religious ideology which is called Social Theocracy (political aspect) and Social Transcendentalism (religious aspect), neither of which could practically transpire without the People’s consent in countries where, on account of the right axial preconditions (church-hegemonic/state-subordinate), the exploitation of the democratic process to a religiously sovereign end could be reasonably and logically entertained, as though in consequence of ‘Messianic Intervention’ upon the political (republican) and religious (catholic) status quo.

For republicanism, as in Eire, cannot be regarded, in view of its worldly nature, as an end-in-itself, but only as as means to a superior end, an end in which the People freely elect for religious sovereignty and the rights accruing to it, as defined by me in a succession of weblogs, eScrolls, eBooks, etc.

For God never truly existed in the Judeo-Christian past, nor could He exist in any hypothetical Social Theocratic/Transcendental future except, via the Messianic ‘Second Coming’, as the outer face, so to speak, of Heaven, the soulful fulcrum, to repeat, of genuine metaphysics, effectively inseparable from the heavenly fulcrum, like, in metaphorical terms, candlelight from candle-flame.

It will be Heaven the Holy Soul (an unheard of term from a Catholic standpoint) that will most characterize this ultimate metaphysics and, curiously enough, it will be pseudo-Devil the pseudo-Mother (or pseudo-metachemical pseudo-bound will) that will most characterize, when fully developed, the pseudo-metachemistry of those who, for reasons of gender, have not been saved (as from pseudo-physics to metaphysics, or pseudo-bound corporeal psyche to free ethereal psyche) but, rather, counter-damned (as from chemistry to pseudo-metachemistry, or free corporeal soma to pseudo-bound ethereal soma), thus taking a subordinate position under the metaphysical which will correspond, in pseudo-space under time, to the neutralized dragon under the saintly heel, not to mention to the neutralized lion and/or wolf under the lamb of true godliness as a reflection, from without, of the inner joy of Heaven, and freedom, for all eternity, of males from the XX-chromosomal objectivity, rooted in a vacuum, of females which is primarily intended for perpetuating the world as a context dominated by somatic freedom (females) and/or binding (pseudo-males), to the exclusion of that psychic freedom which only the liberated Y-chromosome of the metaphysical male can experience … should the actuality of a Superchristian disposition germane to ‘Kingdom Come’ eventually arise, to signal the triumph of Truth and the dethronement, for all eternity, of the Lie … of Devil the Mother hyped as God the Father – the Lie, in short, of God!


Today I heard a man on the radio (RTE 1) say that life was a gift. A gift? But a gift, I have to say, is not something you have to keep on paying for throughout your life, and I could only marvel at his apparent naivety.

So if life is not a gift, then what is it?  I'll tell you what. A consequence of female necessity, premised upon the utilization of beauty and love to a reproductive end.  Being fundamentally vacuous, females have to justify the objectivity that hails from a vacuum in terms of a surrogate plenum, which is maternity and the production and nurturing of offspring.

For an adult female the child is a temporary solution to a permanent problem, namely the objectivity that arises from a vacuum. But since the surrogate plenum of maternity is only temporary, the female is obliged to utilize her free will, rooted, as it were, in a spatial vacuum, for purposes of achieving another surrogate plenum (the child), and so on, until either she cannot bear any more children or runs out of options with regard to the male sex.

Only when she ceases to menstruate is a woman released from the burden of reproduction, though not, it has to be said, from the problem of objectivity that hails from a vacuum.

With males, on the other hand, the problem that is life has less to do with being true to oneself, to the subjectivity inherent in being blessed, at birth, with a plenum (as opposed to cursed with a vacuum), than with finding oneself or, rather, one's self in the face of a continuous bombardment of objectivity from the female, whose vacuousness is capable of vitiating if not corrupting and effectively destroying male subjectivity.

Therefore a precondition of being true to one's self as a male is to avoid being false to oneself in consequence of succumbing to female pressures, which ever war upon both ego (from the standpoint of spirit) and soul (from the standpoint of will).

So-called true love is a paradoxical example of such falsity because it implies loyalty to a female, and while that may be a factor in solving the female's problem of acquiring a surrogate plenum through maternity, it does nothing to solve the male problem of getting into a position, through self-discovery, of being true to one's self in the interests of happiness and joy.  Rather will the avoidance or even rejection of that, in consequence of loyalty to a female, with her attendant vacuousness (translating into objectivity), make for emptiness and woe, with potentially violent consequences.

So life is not a gift but a problem both for the female (objectivity) and for the male (subjectivity), and I fancy that all true males will strive to minimize their commitment to objectivity, to serving others (particularly females) in the interests of self, both in terms of self-discovery (becoming) and, more importantly, self-realization (being),

Thus when, as a male, you are committed to this path of self-discovery leading to self-realization, you are akin to one who leaves females - mothers, wives, sisters, daughters, etc. - behind in order to 'take up the cross', as it were, of that which goes against the natural grain (of star-like objective imposition from a vacuum) and follow Christ, or his Superchristian equivalent, into Paradise, wherein only the joy (being) of self-realization is to be found.

Merely turning one's back on females and rejecting the world (of family values, etc.) does not solve the problem of the world, still less of life, from a male standpoint, and therefore it is also necessary to fight the good and/or true fight in order to defeat the world and, more particularly, that which rules over it from a metachemical standpoint, the standpoint of Devil the Mother hyped as God the Father, as the effective starting-point for female predation through beauty and love (coupled to a degree of ugliness and hate) and the temporary solution of maternity which is its worldly resolution in pride and strength (coupled to a degree of humiliation and weakness).

The pseudo-subjective male (a pseudo-male) who knuckles under to female objectivity at both metachemical (pseudo-metaphysically) and chemical (pseudo-physically) levels has not even begun to tread the path of self-discovery but is a hapless 'sonofabitch' who merely sees the problem of life, when he sees one at all, from a female standpoint and self-deceivingly refuses to acknowledge it as a problem for himself or, more correctly, for his self, from which he can only become increasingly estranged and consequently discontented with life in general.

But he is deluded if he thinks his self has gone away simply because he refuses to recognize it.  On the contrary, it will come back with a vengeance, and then he will really have a problem!


I never wrote from money or even for money. Everything I have ever written has come from an inner conviction and owes nothing to commerce, still less to commercial pressures from the publishing bourgeoisie. If you can only write because they pay you to write, then sincerity and conviction are not going to be particularly high on your agenda. On the contrary, you will be more concerned with getting your payment by pleasing the paymasters, who are only going to publish you if they are confident that what you write will sell, i.e. appeal to the public in one way or another.

No true genius writes for money but, rather, in order to discover and realize the Truth, which is intimately connected with his own self, or soul. Writing from conviction I have pursued and discovered the Truth, and it only remains for other like-minded people to read and confirm this Truth (which I identify with Social Theocracy) for it to be realized and, eventually, instituted. Then we will have the beginnings of 'Kingdom Come', but not before! In the meantime, I ask those who read and confirm my Truth to assist me in the task of furthering Social Theocracy, principally through the establishment of Centres for the advancement of Social Transcendentalism, in order that the momentum towards 'Kingdom Come' may begin in earnest.

I believe Ireland, and especially Dublin, would be as good a place to start as any, since a precondition of resurrecting the church-hegemonic/state-subordinate axis (that has its polarities at the southwest and northeast points of the intercardinal axial compass, so to speak) is to have some significant degree of church-hegemonic/state-subordinate tradition in existence, and Eire (the Republic of Ireland) amply fulfils that requirement. Other Irish cities should also become instrumental in this respect; for Social Theocracy, if it is to succeed as a politico-religious ideology, must have centres throughout the country, not least to fill the void left by the so-called 'head shops', as in kindred or analogous countries overseas.


The Republic of Ireland, of which country I am a citizen, can only be subjected to 'Messianic Intervention', and deserves nothing less.

The Tonean 'ideal' (necessarily false) of secular rapprochement between Irishmen of the three principal ethnicities - Roman Catholic, Anglican (Church of Ireland), and Dissenter (Presbyterian, Methodist, Baptist, and other nonconformist manifestations of the broader Puritan or Nonconformist Church) - does not and never has worked in Ireland.

As James Joyce wrote (presumably with some socialistic misgivings) in Ireland 'God and the Church come first', and so it has tended to be. Irish justification of independence from Great Britain was ever predominantly ethnic, that is, centred upon the desirability of freeing a predominantly Catholic population from British imperial interference, ethnic subversion, and social oppression, and those of Anglican and Puritan descent, identifiable with the Protestant minority (in the so-called South) have tended, rightly in my view, to be identified with the British, as agents of British imperialism in Ireland, and therefore as not being properly or indigenously Irish, that is, akin to the Catholic majority that, irrespective of tribal or racial origin, subsequently fell foul of Protestant imperial dominion back in the seventeenth century.

Dev (de Valera) had a strong sense of the desirability of justifying Irish independence from Britain by maintaining if not increasing the religious input from the Catholic Church into education and culture generally in the 26 counties, so that, under him, the South became more deeply entrenched in its Catholic heritage and the Tonean 'ideal' of secular unity between all Irishmen correspondingly of less significance – indeed, was exposed, you could say, as a mere marginal concept deriving from a member of the Protestant minority on the island of Ireland as a whole.

Since Dev's time the Republic of Ireland, as it is now known, has become less self-consciously Catholic, especially in the post-Haughey era, and scandals have since rocked the Church. But it is still, not least under the church-hegemonic axial auspices of the GAA (Gaelic Athletic Association), a country with a Catholic majority that is proud of its heritage and has not 'sold out', except on a kind of more contemporary dotted-line basis of axial departure from the affiliation of republican socialism with Catholicism, to secular values. So should it be!  For there can be no 'Messianic Intervention' in the name of 'Kingdom Come' (through Social Theocracy) where there does not exist a church-hegemonic/state-subordinate tradition compliments of a Catholic majority, or where, for that matter, republican socialism has come to the fore at the expense of the Catholic Church as a kind of mirror-image to the more prevalent Protestant-derived secularities of a capitalist nature which are so prevalent in Britain and America.

The dotted-line contrariness to this more indigenous tradition of the other tradition, rooted in Protestant values deriving from Britain, may also exist, but only as a minority element in the Republic as a whole, and therefore not as an obstacle to the possibility of the 'resurrection' of church-hegemonic criteria through Social Theocracy and, more specifically, through the messiah-inspired and messiah-justified exploitation of the democratic process to a religiously sovereign end, an end only likely to appeal to those within the majority population who have faith in the possibility of 'Kingdom Come' and an end not only to worldly values, their own not least of all, but to obsolete religious values moreover, which are constantly being eroded by the secular encroachments of the present.

For me, the Republic is indeed 'something to be overcome', if I may paraphrase Nietzsche, in the manner described. For it is not - and never can be - a secular end-in-itself, the dream of minority secularists stemming mainly from the Protestant tradition, but, with a Catholic majority (the real justification for its transpiring as an independent political entity in the first place), only a means to a superior end - namely the Social Theocratic Centre and the possibility, following a majority mandate for religious sovereignty, of 'Kingdom Come', in which the development of Social Transcendentalism will be undertaken as a moral necessity.

Therefore we must work to establish Social Theocracy in the Republic, in order that the day of the overcoming of that particular type of worldliness to which it perforce subscribes may be closer at hand.

Even now the Republic is subject to secular forces that, whether internal or external, daily war on its Catholic tradition and therefore increase the power and standing of women at the male's expense. This is a rot that must be stopped!  However, it cannot be halted by a return to traditional values, inadequate as they are in the face of the contemporary secular onslaught, but only by an embracing of the revolutionary values that I equate with Social Theocracy and thus, following a repudiation of the Judeo-Christian tradition, with the 'resurrection' of church-hegemonic/state-subordinate values in such fashion that metaphysics will never again be hamstrung by the God-Lie of metachemistry in back of the aforementioned tradition, but will be able to 'come out' into the full-flowering of its psychic freedom wherein Heaven the Holy Soul, the actual fulcrum of metaphysics, will reign for all Eternity. And reign over a vanquished Will that I have identified with pseudo-metachemistry, the pseudo-bound will of pseudo-Devil the pseudo-Mother which will be akin to the (neutralized) wolf and/or lion that is, perforce, obliged to 'lie down' with the 'lamb of godliness' in Heaven.

Only when life is no longer dominated by females to a reproductive end will the 'Kingdom of Heaven' have truly come to pass.


If I were to draw approximate equivalents, using the four seasons, to the hegemonic and subordinate gender positions on the state-hegemonic/church-subordinate axis (primary) stretching from metachemistry over pseudo-metaphysics to pseudo-chemistry under physics, it would be summer for metachemistry and spring for physics (hegemonic positions), but pseudo-autumn for pseudo-metaphysics and pseudo-winter for pseudo-chemistry (subordinate positions), so that we could speak of a female gender polarity (in general terms) from metachemical summer to pseudo-chemical pseudo-winter and, by contrast, of a male gender polarity (in general terms) from pseudo-metaphysical pseudo-autumn to physical spring, conceiving of the former polarity in terms of damnation and the latter polarity in terms of counter-salvation ... should a fall in the one case or a counter-rise in the other from the one gender polarity to the other occur.

Conversely, if I were to draw approximate equivalents, using the four seasons, to the hegemonic and subordinate gender positions on the church-hegemonic/state-subordinate axis (secondary) stretching from chemistry over pseudo-physics to pseudo-metachemistry under metaphysics, it would be winter for chemistry and autumn for metaphysics (hegemonic positions), but pseudo-spring for pseudo-physics and pseudo-summer for pseudo-metachemistry (subordinate positions), so that we could speak of a male gender polarity (in general terms) from pseudo-physical pseudo-spring to metaphysical autumn and, by contrast, of a female gender polarity (in general terms) from chemical winter to pseudo-metachemical pseudo-summer, conceiving of the former polarity in terms of salvation and the latter polarity in terms of counter-damnation ... should a rise in the one case or a counter-fall in the other from the one gender polarity to the other occur.

But it is only the salvation of the pseudo-physical (pseudo-spring) to metaphysics (autumn) and the correlative counter-damnation of the chemical (winter) to pseudo-metachemistry (pseudo-summer) that could lead to or result in the metachemical (summer) being damned to pseudo-chemistry (pseudo-winter) and the pseudo-metaphysical (pseudo-autumn) counter-saved to physics (spring), and then as a temporary situation pending their successive amalgamations to the 'resurrected' (stepped-up) church-hegemonic/state-subordinate axis on lower-tier terms vis-a-vis those who had already been saved and counter-damned, according to gender.


I'm not into logging, I am a blogger, not a logger, and I get to do quite a lot of blogging. So if it's blogging rather than logging that's your thing, you know where to come. But I ain't going to do a blog on logging, sorry!

I came to blogging reluctantly, feeling that there was an element of Joe Blogs about it, which didn't really appeal to me. But there are as many different types of blog as there are people, and you don't have to be Joe Blogs to blog, for that matter.

It seems that blogging is here to stay. Whether the same can be said of logging ... remains to be seen.


Literature is divisible between progressive writers, who think ahead of what they write, and regressive writers, who write ahead of their thoughts or, rather, let what they write be a substitute for thought.

No regressive writer can be described as a thinker but, then again, few progressive writers are ever writers in the scribbling sense.


Success and failure - so many succeed only to fail, while failure often turns into success, at least for a time. But between the extremes of persistent success (stardom?) and persistent failure (dereliction?) there exists a grey zone of people who are neither particularly successful nor consistently failures, just kind of subject to minor or moderate successes and failures that seem to typify the middle-ground and, in all probability, a middle-class situation in between upper-class 'successes' and lower-class 'failures', most of whom would traditionally have been identified with 'the meek'.


The charm of the country lies less in the country itself than in the comparative absence of other people. To some extent this can also be true of parks.


The other day I noticed a dog snuffling around in the undergrowth close to where I was sitting in my favourite local park, then I noticed that it was a greyhound and, as it turned away at the behest of its owner, that this greyhound was in fact black. A black greyhound - does that not seem a contradiction in terms?


All my life I have never had anyone intelligent to speak to or hold an interesting conversation with. My mother, whom I rarely speak to at all (and then only on the phone), is an idiot and of no intellectual consequence whatsoever, and other than her I rarely if ever speak to anyone. So that is the story of my life. Hopeless exile not only from my native country (Eire), but from any kind of intelligent conversation. No wonder I hate life so much, and therefore despise conventional religion with its God-Lie, an everlasting concession, seemingly, to female dominion.

Incidentally, Christianity being an atomic religion, is typical of the humanistic West traditionally, comprising both the so-called Father and the Son, with certain things you can almost go along with, but then instead of separating the heavenly essence of religion in soulful metaphysics from the devilish will of metachemistry, they make this so-called Father responsible for Creation, for everything (perish the thought!) in Heaven and on earth.

These days we have a post-atomic duty, it seems to me, to divide the omega-most of things or, rather, of metaphysical psyche (no-thing but not, on that account, nothing!) from the alpha-most of things in metachemical soma, thereby splitting the religious atom along pre- and post-atomic lines such that, hopefully, should lead to the repudiation of the metachemical alpha and to the endorsement, the other side of worldly relativity (atomism), of the metaphysical omega ... at the expense, needless to say, of females. Otherwise you are not on the side of the 'march of history' towards 'Kingdom Come', but an alpha-stemming if not alpha-orientated apologist of the so-called Creator, meaning Devil the Mother hyped as God the Father, with everything vaguely (and inevitably falsely in its truncated coming-up-from-below) metaphysical dovetailed, via pseudo-metachemistry, into this Creator-God, who also rules, on a stellar-to-solar-like basis, over pseudo-metaphysics (as over Satan or his natural, human, or cyborgistic equivalents in successive life-stages, as it were, of pseudo-metaphysics).

Traditional religions, including not least Christianity, may have aspired towards metaphysics (in terms of the bound soma of the Catholic, or Y-chromosomal-intimating raised arms, crucifixional paradigm), but it has always been hamstrung by metachemistry, and thus by a proton-dominated atomic want of photon-orientated post-atomic criteria.

No more! Let this be our battle-cry in the war against worldly convention! In the struggle, in other words, to establish 'Kingdom Come' on earth as a prelude to its space centre-like apotheosis, so to speak, in Heaven.


The young accept flattery more readily than the old. In fact, the old are rarely given an opportunity to feel flattered.


Like Hess in 1941, Hitler thought that, following the fall of France, Britain might sue for peace in 1940 to avoid further devastation or humiliation, but he must have overlooked the fact that, unlike France, Britain was in no mood in 1940 to sue for peace, having, through its political representatives, declared war on Nazi Germany in September of the previous year, and only suffered relatively minor damage in the meantime. A country that declares war on another is unlikely to sue for peace but, given Britain's history of imperialism and martial success if not pre-eminence, more inclined to fight on and, if possible, vindicate its declaration of war.

Incidentally, it was not Germany that declared war on Britain or France with the First World War (the so-called Great War) either, but Britain and France that declared war on Germany, the ally of Austria-Hungary, whose Empire had suffered the gross indignity of the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand, heir to the Austro-Hungarian throne and victim, as it transpired, of Serbian or, more correctly, Bosnian-Serb nationalist-inspired terrorism. Therefore Britain and France ended-up siding, via Franz Ferdinand's assassination, with the Slavic nations of Serbia and Russia (which came to the aid of Serbia following the Austro-Hungarian declaration of war) against Germany and Austria. as did both countries, in a different way and for different reasons, with the advent of World War Two, doing absolutely nothing to asssist Poland because their hands were effectively tied by the intrusion of Russia (under cover of the Soviet Union) into the Polish conflict as a co-invader with Germany.

Those pig-headed Poles! They should have given Danzig and the Corridor back to Germany so that East Prussia could have been linked with the rest of the Reich instead of seeking to profit, with Anglo-French encouragement of their own militaristic intransigence, from the spoils of the Versailles Treaty. But as a relatively young nation reconstituted only following the First World War, Poland remained a protégé of Versailles, and something approximating to the status-quo-ante, when the country was ruled over by Germany (Prussia), Austria, and Russia, subsequently ensued for a comparatively brief period during the Second World War, when the Greater German Reich (comprised of Germany and Austria principally) and the Soviet Union (comprised of Russia and the Ukraine principally) carved Poland up between themselves, thereby demonstrating how history can more or less repeat itself or fall into pre-established channels. Had the Poles been less instransigently nationalistic and less under the imperial sway of Britain and France (who were sensitive to further dismantling of the Versailles Treaty at their expense and in relation to the balance of Continental powers), little if any of what subsequently transpired might have happened, since Polish suffering in the Second World War was due, in some degree, to the refusal of Britain and France to allow Nazi Germany to completely dismantle the Versailles Treaty by re-acquiring, via diplomacy, those territories ceded to Poland following World War One (in which Poland was a non-combatant). In the end, Russia gained land from Poland and Germany lost land to Poland, but that is another story and obviously not one that either Britain or France could have foreseen, let alone written.


The clouds that clung to the sky, as to a blank canvas, had been painted a deep red by the setting sun whose brushwork was obscured but evidently not excluded by the rich strands of Turner-esque curtain passing slowly across the horizon. I marvelled at both this and the capacity of Turner to imitate nature at its most abstract and ethereal, its otherworldly absence of tangibility, as though playing second-fiddle to a supreme artist who dwelt behind the clouds like a brush painting onto the sky the diverse hues of ever-changing cloud formations over Venice or wherever he might happen to be. Never in my life had I beheld anything comparable ... until now, on this exceptional evening that probably passed unnoticed and unremarked upon by the vulgar crowd of cloud-denying humanity, more to be despised for their mundane limitations than pitied for lacking an otherworldly dimension, the prerogative and privilege, after all, of all true artists, those fabulous beings who live for their art and the nourishment, through that, of their soul, which would surely starve without regular recourse to the ethereal subjectivity of the skies.


The multitudinous alpha contrasts with the solitudinous omega on both ethereal (absolute) and corporeal (relative) planes - fit subject for a lengthy thesis, given the complexities involved!

Suffice it to say that, in simple terms, the ethereal alpha and omega, whether multitudinous or solitudinous, is non-tangible in character, whereas the corporeal alpha and omega, again whether in terms of multitude or solitude, is tangible and therefore significant of contexts in which people touch, whether objectively (outer) or subjectively (inner) or, paradoxically, through a combination of each, as presumably in the context of families. Children playing games are likely to accord with the former (objective) and consenting adults with the latter (subjective), but there are also intermediate contexts involving both objective and subjective, outer and inner, modes of touching, as already noted.

In the ethereal contexts, by contrast, there are only outer and inner instances of non-touching, as befitting the absolutism of the Devil and God or, more correctly, of the Devil (multitudinous free will) and Heaven (solitudinous free soul). For the alpha and omega of the ethereal do not, as it were, shake hands in some kind of amoral or liberal compromise between metachemistry and metaphysics the way chemistry and physics sometimes do, as and when, for example, sex continues privately between the consenting adults who are also parents of children within the family context and obliged, at other times, to behave as such.


A high-flying trailer plane snaked up through the sky towards a steep bank of cloud, through which it flew to emerge anew on the other side in what appeared to be spatial independence of its original trail, now looking suspiciously like the tail of a wide-winged bird whose beak, clearly visible beyond the cloud, ever pointed towards the fading light of the setting sun.

Later on, my soul flew into the sky of my dreams and settled atop a cloud of my imagination, where it felt serene, beholden to no-one and nothing but itself. Truth is a joyful self-realization.


It would be as stupidly illogical for a writer or health professional to go on about the subsensuous at the expense of the superconscious as for him or her to go on about the subconscious at the expense of the supersensuous. Unfortunately, the Christian and, in particular, Roman Catholic tradition has encouraged, in its truncated metaphysics (the product of straining on the leash, as it were, towards metaphysics from pseudo-physics under chemistry whilst being hamstrung, in back, by metachemistry), the equivalent of going on about the subsensuous (the crucifixional paradigm of bound soma on the 'dark side' of what should be the metaphysical equation) at the expense of the superconscious (metaphysical free psyche as that which, on account of Christianity being anchored, so to speak, in Judaic metachemistry, is effectively 'beyond the pale' of subsensuous allegiance), and therefore it need not surprise us if, conversely, the subconscious has been emphasized, not least by psychologists like Freud, at the expense of the supersensuous, its free somatic precondition and the majority - most as against least - ratio aspect of metachemistry, without which metachemistry-proper simply wouldn't exist, since the subconscious merely corresponds to the bound-psychic concomitant of that which positively characterizes metachemistry - namely, the aforementioned supersensuous. And, of course, without the superconscious it can certainly be argued if not categorically maintained that metaphysics-proper won't exist, since the subsensuous merely corresponds to the bound-somatic concomitant of that which positively, in majority - most as against least - ratio terms, characterizes metaphysics - namely the aforementioned superconscious.

Hence, given to a metachemically-conditioned illogicality founded upon subsensuous partiality in relation to metaphysics, the Judeo-Christian tradition has simply come-up short of doing justice to the superconscious at the expense of metachemistry, whose own supersensuous/subconscious duality of free soma and bound psyche has itself fallen victim to psychological partiality at the hands of Christian-influenced thinkers and writers in the West who, for reasons it may be of gender, have signally failed to do justice to the supersensuous as the precondition of the subconscious to which they have attributed undue importance and significance out of all proportion to its actual status - the one partiality leading inexorably, I feel, to the other, in what to us must seem to be an anachronistic mode of thinking that can have no applicability to global civilization, neither in its contemporaneous metachemically-dominated alpha nor, hopefully, in the metaphysical omega still to come when and if the institutionalization of a metaphysics independent of metachemical constraints can be democratically mandated with what, I guess, would correspond to 'judgement' in relation to the prospect of 'Kingdom Come', or that which would be beyond the world and, more importantly, fully antithetical to what has tended to rule over it from a metachemical point of view inimical to metaphysics.


One of the things I am most ashamed of and have most regrets about in my life is the amount of time spent listening to stupid songs, particularly those composed by overly pseudo-male 'sons-of-bitches'!


Pushed too far or taken beyond a certain point, freedom is apt to become tyrannical. The freedom of one man becomes the enslavement of others to the tyranny of his freedom, which knows no bounds except those laid down, rather arbitrarily, by himself. Paradoxically, those who worship freedom become enslaved by freedom, their worship being a substitute for freedom as an individual choice in a world characterized by the communal enslavement of individuals to a focus of worship exemplifying freedom.


The genius of Michael Schenker is such that each and every note seems pregnant with meaning, fecund in its relationship to an intensely inventive and original riff and/or run, with substantial harmonic underpinning, where applicable, of vocal leads and choruses. Most other guitarists pale to musical insignificance in comparison with this master of hard rock, who is positively electrifying.

There are only a few guitarists who can be mentioned in the same breath as Schenker - namely Jeff Beck, Steve Morse, Harvey Mandel (does anyone remember him and his revolutionary instrumental albums back in the late '60s?), Snowy White, and possibly one or two younger pretenders to the throne like Bernhard Beibl and Michael Amott, whose brilliant guitar riffs kind of square the Michael circle in a way strongly reminiscent, at times, of the original master of hard rock/heavy metal guitar.

One of my analogical kinks, if you will, has been to draw musical parallels between Michael Schenker and Beethoven, as though, given his almost muscular tonal substantiality, he were the Beethoven of the electric guitar, though at times, I confess, I have also considered Jeff Beck in this role, even if my analogical kink tends more towards Brahms in connection with him, possibly because I was heavily into Brahms' First Symphony at around the time when I bought Jeff Beck's first album, 'Truth', in 1968 or 1969.


Writing a novel for book publication is really equivalent to writing a symphony for orchestral performance, whether or not you thrown-in essays and concertos for good overall physical/pseudo-chemical measure, the novels and symphonies arguably more pseudo-chemical than physical, with a pseudo-feminine rather than masculine connotation.

Be that as it may, few people habituated to rock music, and their eBook corollary, would regard anyone who, in this day and age, writes a symphony for orchestra as particularly hip. Neither, for that matter, would it be particularly hip to write a novel, least of all for book publication, whether hardback or paperback.

As far as I am concerned, the sooner the radical social, political, and cultural pretensions of such people are exposed for what they are worth, the better! Don't be fooled. Middle-class civilization, being a cross between pseudo-culture and civility, is largely neutronic, the product of bourgeois humanism, with little or no relevance to global civilization.

Anyone who thinks novels are on a par with rock music is deluded, and never more so than when he is of the novel-writing ilk, with delusions of hip grandeur. As a writer of novels, which would correspond to a pseudo-feminine genre given to a sublimated form of drama (narrative), he will be less masculine than quasi-pseudo-feminine, and therefore not even true to his gender, never mind relevant to anything global in more or less contemporary (electronic) terms.


Beauty knows only one law: the natural law of will to power over men for purposes of reproduction. Aided and abetted by love, beauty usually succeeds in having its way at the male's expense; for beauty is the fulcrum of will, and the raison d'être of will is power, not in the alleged Nietzschean sense of self-overcoming (though Nietzsche is far from innocent of justifiably being open to other interpretations), nor even in the rather more ideologically parodic sense exemplified by the film 'The Triumph of the Will', which many would claim to have derived its motivation from Nietzsche's core values as a rampant anti-Christian and self-styled Antichrist, but, rather, in terms of female power over males, a fundamentally superheathen (supersensuous, supernatural) attribute of metachemical free soma that leads down, when successfully prosecuted, to the heathen (sensuous, natural) glory of maternal pride in the chemical achievement, via sex (intimately associated with beauty), of the surrogate plenum of offspring and thus of temporary relief, for the female, from the vacuous want of such a plenum that is her fundamental condition.

Therefore I maintain that the basic law of nature is the female will to power over men for purposes of achieving, through reproduction, the spiritual glory of maternal satisfaction, without which beauty, together with its corollary of love, would be absolutely pointless.

The aesthetic contemplation of beauty, as of Nature, is a male paradox and even conceit deriving from a want of philosophical insight into the fundamental nature of beauty, whose will to sexual power is perfectly utilitarian in its motive.

That is why, from the contrary standpoint of metaphysical Truth, beauty is anathema, an uncursed, undamned freedom of metachemical soma which has to be spurned in order, eventually, that it may be defeated by being rendered subordinate, through neutralization of the will, to Truth, the eternal 'lamb of godliness', so to speak, which is alone capable of granting peace of mind to what would otherwise be a put-upon male, and precisely because it is the outer form of the inner contentment which only perfect self-realization can deliver as the prize for being at one with one's self, as a male, in the soul.

That which is then subordinate to this 'lamb of godliness' which dwells in heaven is no exponent of free will but the proverbial 'lion' that 'lies down' with the 'lamb' in pseudo-metachemistry under metaphysics, or pseudo-space under time, precisely because, having been defeated through neutralization, it is in no position to do anything else, least of all utilize beauty in a will to power over males for purposes of worldly reproduction.

Eternity is 'beyond the world' and therefore not subject to the infinite power that rules over it ... through beauty, and less at the foot of the church-hegemonic axis stretching from southwest to northeast points of the intercardinal axial compass, so to speak, than at the head of the state-hegemonic axis stretching from northwest to southeast points of the said compass.


If you don't have 'God', that is, a genuine grasp of metaphysics, with its heavenly fulcrum in the soul, then you might not know what or who the Devil is, since more inclined, in the circumstances, to take for granted that which was a great big beautiful show that somehow ruled over one in consequence of a wilful disposition.

With a grasp of 'godliness', however, one would be much less inclined to take such a metachemical entity for granted and correspondingly more inclined to regard it in its actual light, as the Devil, or as a manifestation, in broader terms, of devility, and therefore as something or somebody that had to be guarded against and, if possible, rejected, turned into a kind of enemy that one fancied could one day be defeated and thereby rendered nugatory. For you have to be centred in the omega to 'see through' the alpha, centred in psychic grace to 'see through' somatic evil.


A prime characteristic of much if not all classical music, by which is primarily meant music of an orchestral or symphonic nature, is its want or dearth of percussion, particularly of a repetitive as opposed to sequential order of time or, more correctly, of keeping in time with the beat. It is this want of percussion attendant, it seems to me, upon such music being rooted if not grounded in brass (a fiery or metachemical parallel), that would appear to indicate an alpha-stemming as opposed to omega-orientated disposition, in keeping with the Judeo-Christian tradition which, despite Christian pretensions to the contrary, is rooted, cosmically, in the stellar-based Creator of Judaic monotheism (the latter-day symbol of which would appear to be the so-called Star of David), not least in respect of Nature.

Such alpha-stemming music will never do justice to metaphysical time, which is repetitive, and therefore it can only remain a symptom or exemplification of the Judeo-Christian tradition as an anachronism in a global age which, no matter how crudely at times, has a foothold, so to speak, through rock 'n' roll and the like in metaphysical time to a degree utterly uncharacteristic of classical music, the antiquated, class-ridden music of an alpha-stemming tradition which will have to be consigned, at some future date, to the so-called rubbish heap of history if global civilization is to evolve towards its omega point with or without the aid of an intensely or, at any rate, markedly metaphysical kind of music.

This metaphysical, or repetitive time, approach to music, as to rhythm, need not be a tornado or even a hurricane (though there are unquestionably times and circumstances in which the musical equivalent of such phenomena is necessary and even inevitable), but it should certainly aim, when possible, to be a breeze, so to speak, a gentle wind that, with autumnal relish, underpins the music of a metaphysical/pseudo-metachemical age or society on a basis more interiorized (drum machine-like) than exteriorized, even if a circumscribed mode of exteriorized percussion, using drumsticks or hands, cannot be entirely ruled out from a standpoint likely to be more pseudo-metachemical than metaphysical, as though closer to a contiguously-encircled absolute star than to the free supercross of Y-chromosomal-like symbolic significance.


When you're young and in despair (about the future), you regret having been born. When you're old and in despair (about the past), you look forward to death.


The State of Israel, being predominantly Jewish, recognizes one star and one star only - the so-called Star of David. One might then ask: Is not this star and Jehovah fundamentally one and the same? For how can the one Star and the one God not be identical? Surely, then, the Star of David is equivalent to God for the Jews, who are a people of the one God-Star par excellence. The concept of 'all stars', however you interpret it, would not accord with Jewish monotheism, and it is difficult to see how there could be a contradiction between the one Star and the one God in the context of the Israeli State.


The idea of Jesus Christ as 'Superstar', as in the rock musical by Andrew Lloyd Webber and Time Rice, is a complete contradiction in terms, making Christ appear synonymous with all that, in metachemical vein, is most contrary to metaphysics, and therefore at variance with true religion, never mind Christianity, from a standpoint fundamentally cosmic and, hence, scientific, the sort of false religion that has a latter-day parallel in Scientology.

The general return of religion in the West, and in particular in Great Britain and America, to science began not with Scientology, however, nor even with the Old-Testament-biased 'Christianity' of Jehovah Witnesses, but with Anglicanism, which is in many respects the Western precursor, one might even say precondition, of scientific empiricism.

In fact, Protestantism has been instrumental, from the very beginning, in furthering, directly or indirectly, every kind of religious aberration, including, no doubt, the frankly ridiculous and, some would say, effectively blasphemous notion of Jesus Christ as 'Superstar', leading to a trivialization of Christ in a West End hit musical, a procedure completely at variance with the true spirit of Christianity as something inner and abstract rather than outer and concrete, the very antithesis of any kind of 'show'.

All such religious aberrations and commercial liberties simply pander to the alpha at the expense of the omega, taking Christ into an age which is in effect a repudiation of inner values from a secular standpoint that some might prefer to regard as heathen if not, in the 'supernatural' context, superheathen, and therefore closer to the spirit of Antichrist.


Despite his unquestionable greatness as a composer, Brahms must surely rank with Schumann and Mendelssohn in between the truly great symphonists (9 or more) of Beethoven and Schubert on the one hand, and Bruckner and Mahler on the other hand. His four symphonies would scarcely qualify him to be classed with those four flanking masters, even if most people of classical taste would rate his symphonic writings above both Schumann (who also wrote 4) and Mendelssohn (who wrote 5). As for Franz Liszt and Richard Strauss, their commitment to the so-called symphonic poem would hardly qualify them to be categorized with the symphonists proper, and the same of course could be said of Wagner, who was a great opera composer, not a symphonist.






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